


Never Give Up

by PrettyPrairie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Build, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 56,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27962048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyPrairie/pseuds/PrettyPrairie
Summary: Arya Stark is determined to find out the truth about her father's death years after his so-called accident. Why would the Hound step in and pretend to care when they both knew better? Besides, she despised him, didn't she?Sandor Clegane was shocked to discover the wolf girl was back and she meant business. She still talked back, she never listened and she had no sense. He was positive he wanted nothing more than to throttle her. Well, he may have wanted a little more than that but it was not like he was ever going to admit it.
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Arya Stark
Comments: 101
Kudos: 41





	1. Fasten Your Seatbelt

**Author's Note:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Arya had spent a lot longer at the interview than she had intended. It was already dark. She put the high powered, sleek red Ferrari Portofino into reverse, stepped on the gas and suddenly there was a loud thump and an unpleasant crunch. Seven fucking Hells! Her head whipped around to look over her shoulder. She had wrecked Sansa’s pride and joy. She was dead. Sansa was going to kill her. Dead.

She scrambled out of the nearly new sports car to assess the damage. She’d slammed into the Prime Minister’s limousine. They didn’t call it a tank for nothing. It was armored and reinforced with enough steel to withstand a missile attack. The back end of Sansa’s Ferrari was squashed like an accordion but the Jaguar XJ Sentinel limousine barely had a scratch. Its shiny black paint gleamed cheerfully under the bright security lighting.

“You little bitch!”

Ah, shit! Her old nemesis, Meryn Trant, was skirting around the front of the limo and heading straight for her. He looked none too pleased. As a matter of fact, he looked as though he wanted to tear her from limb to limb. Obviously, there was going to be no reasoning with that awful, nasty piece of work. Yeah, what was that old saying? Was it run away and live to fight another day? No, that wasn’t quite right. She couldn’t think with that colossal freak speeding towards her.

Arya turned to run back to the Ferrari so she could lock herself inside. Unfortunately, she had worn some ridiculous high heels for her job interview and was just a little bit too slow. Trant reached out and caught hold of the back of her Prada suit jacket and brought her to an abrupt halt and then swung her around viciously and slammed her back against her car door.

He reached out his hands and grabbed the front of her jacket. Arya threw her elbow straight up and slammed it downward into the crook of his opposite arm. In the blink of an eye she followed through and crashed her elbow upwards into his jaw.

He grunted in pain and let go of her but as she tried to get past him he grasped her once again and shoved her back against the car. “You stupid girl! Look what you’ve done! You don’t think you can just show up and start your crap all over again! Your daddy’s dead now. There’s no one left to protect you.” He had her by her lapels and his spittle sprayed her face. Her nose crinkled; his breath certainly left a lot to be desired.

When she was a little girl and had visited the Red Keep, she’d always made it her business to avoid being alone with Trant if she could help it. Luckily, whenever he had caught her alone she had always been within shouting distance of help. She may have been guilty of antagonizing him a little but he was just as guilty. She had the feeling he was itching for the opportunity to get his hands on her and teach her a lesson. She’d also always suspected he would have done a lot worse than just smack her around if he’d had the chance. She wasn’t about to give him that chance now. 

She dug her fingers into the pressure points beside his thumbs. “Get off me, you big, ugly moron! I’m here on business! You can’t rough me up!”

“Pfft! You’re no guest.” He shook her. “You’re that pain in the arse Stark girl. Do you really think the Prime Minister is going to care if you took a little tumble after your car accident?” He laughed menacingly. “I’ll just tell her you must have bumped your head in the crash and lost your balance and fell.”

She suspected he was wearing steel-toed shoes and decided not to stomp on his instep. Instead, she head-butted his nose and as he reared backwards she clasped her hands around the back of his neck and held on while she brought her knee up and repeatedly kneed him in the groin. Trant flailed and stumbled backwards as he howled in pain while trying to simultaneously protect his privates and shake her loose.

She knew it was her opportunity to get inside the car but she couldn’t resist. “You big, fucking baby!” She shouted. She was angry with herself. She knew what it was like at the Red Keep. She should have been better prepared.

She had the door open when he lunged at her. This time he caught her by the throat. “You’re going to pay for that, you little shit!”

He was wearing body armor so Arya went for his eyes. He screamed bloody murder and she was able to maneuver him around and slam the car door into his body over and over again. She was mad now and she was swearing up a storm. He was cursing and screaming but he got loose and she kicked him in the side of the knee and tried to run.

He caught her from behind in a bear hug but her arms were free so she grabbed onto his right arm for leverage as she shifted her hips to the side and used her left hand to strike him in the groin yet again. He roared and propelled her forward against the hood of the Ferrari. Arya was face down and this time he had both of her arms securely in his grasp. He used his superior body weight to press down on her back and keep her immobilized.

“You like it rough, do you?” He hissed into her ear. He was so close there was no escape from his foul breath at this point. Arya squirmed and bucked but Trant just pushed her arms above her head and used one of his oversized hands to hold both her slender wrists. He slipped his other hand around the front of her body and reached for the opening of her blouse as Arya fought to keep him at bay.

The Hound walked outside the door of Maegor’s Holdfast. Where was that stupid Trant? He knew how much Cersei hated to be kept waiting. He turned his head as he became aware of some shouting in the distance. He decided to wait before he called for backup. It could very well be the family squabbling with each other. Cersei was still inside her office otherwise he would have assumed the screaming came from her. No one enjoyed screaming more than she did.

He rounded the corner and came upon a woman kicking Trant in the knee. He was impressed because not only was she was a tiny little thing but because she’d been able to keep her balance in a pair of spectacular heels. Trant then caught hold of her and she pummeled him below the belt before he roughly pinned her to the hood of a smashed red car.

He knew Trant very well. He hurried forward and pulled him off the young, dark-haired woman. She sprang back up and spun around ready to go at it again. Her navy silk blouse was partially open exposing her lacy black bra. She didn’t seem to care because as soon as she had the chance she leapt forward and used the heel of her palm to strike Trant in the nose. Blood began to pour down his face and drip from his chin. He roared and tried to break free but when Sandor put him in a rear naked chokehold Trant knew he meant business. Trant quickly tapped Sandor’s forearm to let him know he got the message and Sandor lessoned his grip and allowed him to take a breath.

“Here now, stop it!” Sandor yelled at the woman while trying not to stare at her heaving chest.

“He started it! That fucking bastard attacked me!” She spat.

He must not have been entirely successful at keeping his eyes to himself because she looked down and realized her blouse was open. She pulled it together but some of the buttons were missing. She held it closed with her hand. It suddenly dawned on him that this shapely young woman was the youngest Stark girl. He was shocked. She’d grown up. Her dark eyebrows were drawn together and she was trying her best to catch her breath.

Sandor was furious. He spun Trant around and backhanded him and then shoved him backwards. Trant stumbled and landed on his ass. “What the fuck do you think you were doing!” He shouted. “Why would you attack her?”

Meryn Trant was wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve. He flushed with righteous indignation. “She backed into the Jag and then she pounded me in the stones!”

Sandor scoffed. “Really? Do you expect me to believe she crashed into you on purpose just so she could have the pleasure of kicking your ass? Besides, you didn’t exactly look like you were trying to avoid battling a girl that’s less than half your size.” He motioned to the Ferrari. “It was a fucking accident. Did you never hear of exchanging insurance information? Taking pictures of the damage with your cell phone? Calling for a tow truck?”

Trant slowly got up and shuffled his feet. “She’s the Stark bitch. Surely, you recognize her.”

“Get yourself over to the security complex and clean yourself up. I’m calling for Blount to drive for Prime Minister Lannister.”

Trant glared at Arya as he walked past her. “You were lucky, this time.”

Arya tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Too bad about your nose. Not that it would make any difference; you couldn’t look any worse that you already do.”

Trant stopped and balled his hands into fists.

“Get a move on; haven’t you made enough stupid decisions for one night?” Sandor snapped. Trant snorted and flounced off in a huff.

Sandor’s eyes roamed over the Stark girl. “Are you injured?”

She scowled. “I’m fine!” She turned smartly on her heel and marched around to the back of the Ferrari. “Do you think this thing is drivable?”

Half of the bumper was on the ground while the other half was still attached to the car. He lifted it to see if it would come loose. “No.” He lowered it back onto the ground. He wondered if she was really alright or she was just determined to appear indestructible. He hadn’t seen the entire fight but what he had seen was enough to make him nervous. “Did he touch you? I mean your buttons are . . .”

“I said I’m fine!” She shook her head and her grey eyes flashed in warning. She took a breath as if to shout some more but changed her mind and lowered her voice instead. “He tried to grope me but you pulled him off. I just want to go home.” She sighed and rubbed her arms. After a moment, she motioned towards him. “You’ve blood on your sleeve.”

She was tough, he would give her that. Too bad she had to run into Trant. He couldn’t imagine what she was doing here. Her sister had visited on and off over the years but the wolf girl hadn’t been back since her father died. He still couldn’t get over how much she’d grown up. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at Trant’s blood. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps hurrying towards them.

“Oh my, Ms. Stark!” Varys exclaimed. “You’ve had an accident. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. I’m really sorry but I’ve managed to back into a rather important vehicle.”

Varys laughed. “You could say that.” He put his hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes with sympathy. “Are you sure you are well?”

She shook her head and tried to give him a reassuring girlish smile but it wasn’t easy; charm wasn’t her strong suit.

Varys glanced at the limo. “It seems to be mostly undamaged. Clegane, where’s Trant?”

Arya quickly cut in and answered for him. “He hit his nose on the visor. It isn’t serious. He just had a little nosebleed and went to clean up.”

The Hound did a double-take. Why would she cover for Trant? He waited a moment to see if she would say anything else but she only stared him down and narrowed her eyes. It didn’t make any sense. She was up to something, he was sure of it. He shook his head and asked Varys if he wanted him to drive for the PM. 

“No, get Blount over here quick. Cersei is starting to really get annoyed.” Varys turned to Arya while Clegane stepped away and used his headset to call Blount. “Ms. Stark, please don’t worry about the limousine.” He smiled gently. “My only concern is that you were not injured. Would you like to come inside? We can have Grand Maester Pycelle check over you just in case.”

Arya made a face. “Uh, no, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just call for an Uber now, if you don’t mind. Let me get my insurance information for you.” She opened the car door and retrieved her handbag.

“Oh no, Ms. Stark. We will worry about that later. Again, it was so lovely talking with you and I am sorry I kept you so late. Please feel free to stop me from nattering on the next time we meet.” He reached out and took her hand. “I apologize, but I must go.” Varys turned to Clegane. “I want you to take Ms. Stark home and don’t forget to have her vehicle towed. Good-bye, my dear.” He hurried back around the corner to placate their fearless leader.

Boris Blount jogged up the driveway to the limousine and opened the door. He paused to stare at Arya curiously for a moment before he got inside and carefully drove away.

Sandor eyed the girl. Trant had probably already spun a bunch of lies about what had happened. He wondered again at how he came to be working with such filth. It was too late for him but the least he could do was to warn her away. “I’ll be right back with the Range Rover.”

“No thanks. I can get home on my own.” Arya sat down in the driver’s seat of the Ferrari and took out her phone.

Gods, she was stubborn. “I’m taking you home.” He growled.

She looked him up and down. “No offense, but I don’t think I want you to know where I live.”

Sandor huffed. “Really? Do you think I can’t figure out you are staying at the King’s Gate Towers with your sister?”

Arya rolled her eyes. She wondered why he was pretending to be so courteous when they both knew better. She supposed she was lucky he went along with her to cover for Meryn Trant but the truth was he probably preferred it that way. He might even have denied he had seen Trant assault her. It would be just like Cersei’s thugs to defend each other no matter how badly they had behaved.

She still couldn’t believe she had lied to protect Trant. It felt so wrong. She could have told Varys what had happened. Then again, that most likely would have been a mistake. He had just hired her as a catalog librarian for Tywin Lannister’s personal library and she definitely didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She didn’t want Varys to rethink his decision to hire her. Although she’d had three other job offers for the summer months, this was the one she had really wanted.

Her attention was drawn to the Hound again. He was a bastard to be sure. She'd heard him roar in anger more than once and it had been more than a little terrifying. She wasn’t stupid enough to ever want to get on his bad side but she had to admit she had never believed she was in the same kind of danger from him as she was from Trant.

The hells with it, she was sick of the entire evening. She stepped out of the Ferrari. “Well, hurry up. If you insist on driving me home, I haven’t got all night.”

The Hound raised his good eyebrow and then made a sweeping bow. “Certainly, Your Majesty, I am at your service. Will that be all?”

Arya momentarily forgot to hold her blouse together and put her hands on her hips. “No, that’s not all. I could use a bottle of water or better yet a bottle of ridiculously expensive whisky if you happen to have any lying about.” She waved her hand with a flourish. “You may go now, kind Ser.”

Sandor’s mouth fell open and then closed with an angry snap. “I’m not a Ser.” He grumbled as he stomped off towards the security complex. He could have said much more but the sight of the wolf girl bossing him around in a power suit, black bra and heels with a smug little look on her face had flustered him much more than he was willing to admit.

He stepped out of the black Range Rover Velar and walked around intending to open the rear door for her but she had already climbed into the front passenger seat. He opened the back door anyway and retrieved the bottle of water he’d placed in the backseat cupholder. He handed it to her when he got back inside behind the wheel.

“Hmm, I asked for whisky. This isn’t aged single malt Scotch.”

Sandor snorted. “You’ll get what I give you. Just close your eyes and use your imagination.”

“Is that what you tell your girlfriend? I pity the poor woman.”

Sandor gave her a sideways look. “You might want to watch that smart mouth of yours.”

“What for?”

“It might get you in trouble. Not everyone is as easygoing as me.”

“Ha! Are you serious? Easygoing? I once saw you hang someone by their feet over a balcony.”

He didn’t doubt her word but for the life of him he couldn’t remember doing something like that in front of her. “Well, I didn’t drop them, did I?”

“No.” Arya unscrewed the cap on her bottle of water and took a drink.

“See, what did I tell you; I’m easygoing.”

She inadvertently barked out a laugh. She spluttered and coughed as the water went down the wrong way. He must be joking. He couldn’t really be that deluded. She couldn’t think of a single person less easygoing than him.

He ignored her. “Did you mouth off to Trant too?”

She screwed the cap back on angrily. “No, I did not. I never had a chance to say anything at all. He just came right after me.” She paused a moment. “He never did like me. He was always mean to me whenever no one was around to catch him.”

He thought she sounded as if she was still insulted. “Well, yeah. Don’t take it personally. He’s a sorry sack of shit.”

“Mmm.”

The Hound continued to negotiate downtown through the light evening traffic. Arya knew she should have been trying to butter him up. She should have been trying to get some answers to the long-standing questions she had about her father’s time serving as Prime Minister Robert Baratheon’s Hand but the thought of being pleasant to him was just too unpalatable.

The Hound studied her profile while waiting at a stoplight. “You know, the Red Keep has never been the safest of places. It’s even worse now that Cersei is Prime Minister. I was surprised to see you there.”

She was resolutely staring out of the passenger side window. She wondered what he meant by that exactly. Of course, the Lannisters were a ruthless bunch. She had no doubt they’d slit anyone’s throat that stood in the way of their power-hungry ambitions and that included each other. Their supposed Specialist Protection Guard was just a gang of violent thugs that could barely bother to keep up a respectable façade. It was unfathomable to her that Cersei had been elected as the leader of the majority party and then had been appointed Prime Minister following her husband’s untimely death.

Arya rubbed her forehead and wished again for the millionth time that her father had never accepted the appointment to Robert’s Small Council. King’s Landing was nothing more than a snake pit. If her father hadn’t been so loyal to his old friend, she was sure he would never have been found dead at the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck.

“You can sulk all you want. You’re lucky I came along when I did, Girl. The Red Keep is no place for you.”

“I know all about the Red Keep, thank you very much.”

He pulled up in front of her door and caught hold of her wrist. “You don’t know anything, you little fool. The Starks don’t fare well in the lion’s den in case you’ve forgotten. If you have half a brain you’ll stay far away from the Red Keep.”

She yanked her arm out of his grasp. “No shit. Thanks for the heads up but it’s completely unnecessary.” She exited the vehicle but paused before she closed the door. “Don’t pretend you’re not one of them.” She slammed the door and the doorman let her into the building.

She noticed the bastard had the courtesy to wait until she was safely inside the lobby. Of course, that didn’t mean anything. She was sure it was just a reflex from all the years he’d spent as a bodyguard. She supposed he had to be on his toes protecting that horrible family. She wouldn’t be surprised if dozens of people wanted to attack them.

It was almost as if the Hound could see right through her. She had waited a very long time to investigate her father’s so-called accident. She wasn’t about to stop before she got started. She didn’t appreciate the way he had talked to her. She wasn’t stupid. She’d always been smart enough to know that Trant was particularly dangerous.

She frowned as an uneasy feeling settled over her. The more she thought about it, the more she remembered. Finally, she realized that the reason she’d always been extra careful around Meryn Trant was because the Hound had warned her about him years before. He’d been the one who had told her to never let Trant get her alone. Arya took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She closed her eyes and imagined the Hound’s sneering, ravaged face and all the anger inside of him. What difference was it to him if anything happened to her anyway?


	2. Detour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Instead of heading north like any sensible Stark should, Arya found herself traveling due west thanks to her _dear_ sister, Sansa. They had been motoring along the Goldroad towards the Westerlands for what seemed like an eternity. Ever since they'd left King’s Landing earlier that morning, she had wanted nothing more than to escape the confines of the stately, dark limousine.

It was only later that she realized what she really wanted was to ditch a certain blonde-haired companion on the side of the road. She fantasized at the shocked expression on Joffrey’s stupid face as he choked on their exhaust after they peeled rubber and left him in the dust. She went on to imagine their tires kicking up gravel that would pelt down over him like hail before a thunderstorm. Of course, it was never going to happen but she could still dream, couldn’t she?

When Sansa had initially invited her on a short vacation following her graduation from the University of Braavos, Arya had been less than enthusiastic. Sure, she would have enjoyed roughing it in a remote mountain cabin with Sansa and a few of her friends but her priority had been to gain access to the Red Keep as Tywin’s new librarian. Following that, she had planned to go home to Winterfell for a short break before she started her new position.

Arya was not really looking forward to going to KLU for her graduate studies. She had missed the cooler temperatures of her homeland up north. She longed for the vast, secluded woods and familiar surroundings. She had found that although her time studying in Braavos had been exciting, Winterfell still called to her.

She smiled to herself. Sometimes she had the distinct impression that there was much more to Winterfell than just a big pile of ancient grey stones. She’d often wondered if Winterfell didn’t so much belong to the Starks as the Starks belonged to Winterfell. Arya shook her head. Obviously, she had read far too many embellished histories and fantastical legends of the distant past.

Arya’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Joffrey's grating, high-pitched laugh. She grimaced and tried to ignore it as she remembered the conversation she’d had with Sansa following her graduation. She’d been about to tell her thanks but no thanks for the invitation when her sister had mentioned she was excited about whitewater river rafting near the headwaters of the Blackwater Rush. That did it. Arya was _in_. Unfortunately, she was now kicking herself for her tendency to jump headfirst into situations without really thinking things all the way through.

Arya was definitely regretting that she had not asked more questions about the trip. She should have known something was up when Sansa was deliberately vague about certain details. She had told her that her friend, Margaery Tyrell, as well as a couple of Margaery’s brothers would be joining them and Arya saw no reason to object. She’d met Loras briefly and he was a real sweetheart. She’d never met Willas but she had always heard good things about him.

Arya had flown into King’s Landing a week ago and had arrived at Sansa’s apartment without any pesky premonitions of doom. Her first clue that she’d made a mistake was when she and Sansa had exited the elevator early that morning and she’d spotted Sansa’s doorman holding the door for Boris Blount while he struggled with their luggage.

“Sansa! What’s he doing here?” Arya turned on her sister accusingly.

Sansa widened her eyes with pretend innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

While Boris Blount tried to squeeze their bags into the trunk, Mandon Moore popped out of the driver side door of the waiting limo and whisked around quickly to hold the back door open for them. Arya groaned. Moore worked for the Baratheons too. She stopped in her tracks.

“Come on, Arya.” Sansa urged impatiently.

Arya glanced around and seriously considered sprinting as fast as she could down the sidewalk. She was pretty sure she could out-distance Sansa even though her sister’s legs were longer. Arya had on her hiking boots whereas Sansa was wearing some pretty wicked Manolo Blahnik gold spiked heels. Arya wondered if she’d wear them on the rubber river raft. She could just hear the hiss of escaping air as Sansa poked a hole in the raft and they sank to the bottom of the river.

She noticed a second limo double parked behind the one at the curb. There was a very tall, well-built man standing beside the open passenger door talking to Boris Blount. He glanced her way and she realized he was the Hound. Shit! How many carloads of Baratheons were there? She knew her plan had been to get close to them but being trapped in a remote mountain cabin with the whole entire clan seemed like a bit much. Arya scowled fiercely at Clegane. He wasted no time in scowling right back at her before he got into his own limo and slammed the door.

She couldn’t believe that she had actually admired the Hound when he had first visited Winterfell. He had looked so tall and gallant while he sparred with her brothers. He almost seemed as if he rode straight out of one of the legends she was so fond of reading. His scars hadn’t bothered her. She had thought they made him look even more thrilling. She found out later that it wasn’t a very good idea to judge a man’s character based on his looks. Of course, she’d only been eleven at the time so she figured it was understandable that she hadn’t been quite as smart as she thought she was.

As Arya stood there on the sidewalk lost in thought, Sansa grasped hold of her arm and yanked her forward towards the limo. Arya stumbled but regained her footing just in time to be maneuvered inside the waiting vehicle. She wasn’t really surprised when she came face to face with Joffrey Baratheon. It was just her luck. She was shocked when she saw how Margaery was holding the little creep’s arm and realized they were together. Sansa had mooned over him when she was younger too. What in the Seven Hells was wrong with them? Arya couldn’t imagine what either of them could have _ever_ seen in Joffrey.

Margaery then introduced Arya to her oldest brother, Willas. It was pretty obvious that Sansa was smitten with him. Not that she blamed her. Willas Tyrell could probably make any girl swoon. He had dark, wavy hair, a distinct cleft in his chin and blue eyes that sparkled. He was handsome, well-spoken and courteous. Basically, he was everything that Joffrey was not. He made Joff seem like a toad in comparison. If Arya had to ever decide which one of them to kiss, she knew who she would choose. No matter how thoroughly a girl kissed Joff, he’d never turn into a handsome prince.

Willas had politely asked her about herself and what she was studying at university. He explained he was general counsel for his family businesses. Arya couldn’t imagine anything more boring except for Sansa’s chosen field of government law and politics. She smiled at him pleasantly and forgave him for his tedious profession. She supposed everyone couldn't be a knight or a dragon-slayer.

“I can’t wait to go rafting, how about you, Arya?” Willas grinned.

Arya perked up. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. Actually, it’s the only reason I agreed to come on the trip.”

“Arya!” Sansa chided her. “Where are your manners?”

“She’s too lightweight.” Joffrey nodded towards Arya. “She’s going to bounce right out of the raft at the first sign of some whitewater.”

Arya gave him a dirty look. “I am not.”

Joff sneered. “You just wait and see. You’ll float downstream so fast the raft won’t be able to catch up with you and you’ll end up floating all the way back down the river to King’s Landing and Blackwater Bay.” He snickered. “Some fisherman will scoop you up in his net like a dead mackerel.”

“Hahaha. You’re hilarious. Just remember, if I go, I’m taking you with me.”

Margaery cut in. “Joffrey’s just teasing, Arya.” She reached out and patted Arya’s hand and then she turned to her brother. “I didn’t know you planned to go rafting, Willas.”

Willas sighed and squeezed his eyes closed until he was able to regain his composure. He turned towards his sister. “It’s fine, really. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Arya looked between them. She didn’t understand what was going on but she could sense a certain tension. Apparently, Willas had some sort of problem but she didn’t think it was her place to ask. So instead, she turned to Sansa. “Who’s in the other limo?”

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t know.”

“Yeah, it seems you forgot to tell me.” Arya narrowed her eyes. Sansa tittered defensively and Arya was pleased to see she seemed to feel a little remorse for deliberately misleading her about Joff. She knew damn well Arya would never have agreed to a vacation with him. She shuddered in horror at what else she may have forgotten to mention.

“Let’s see. You’ve met Loras, Margaery’s brother. I don’t think you’ve met his boyfriend, Renly Baratheon. He’s Joff’s uncle of course. Then there’s Joff’s sister, Myrcella, and her boyfriend, Trystane Martell.” Sansa was counting on her fingers. “Oh, and Tommen. I almost forgot about him.”

Arya had been somewhat conflicted to hear the names of the other happy campers. She knew she should have been disappointed that Joff’s mother wouldn’t be accompanying them. After all, it would have been an excellent excuse to get to know her better without seeming suspicious but she was ashamed to admit she was secretly relieved. She didn’t know how much Tommen and Myrcella could tell her. They’d been children just like her when her father had died. Joff might know something, though.

The conversation for a large part of the trip was listening to Joff brag about his position as Vice Chairman of the Board of Baratheon Corp. She didn’t quite understand what he actually did but it was obvious he thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact, he was so gleeful she was certain it must involve bullying a great number of defenseless people. He barely let Margaery get in a word about how she had just received her CMA certification and was about to begin working in financial management at Tyrell Holdings. 

She still didn’t understand why Sansa persisted in her friendship with the Baratheon family. They brought her nothing but bad memories. The Red Keep had been alive with secrets and danger. Even as a child she had been aware that something was terribly wrong there.

Arya was thrilled when they eventually turned off onto a secondary road and she could see the pine-covered foothills of the western mountain range in the distance. It wouldn’t be much longer now. She pressed her forehead onto the cool glass window and breathed a sigh of relief.

There was a little sprawl of fast food restaurants, a truck stop and a couple of service stations beside the exit. They pulled up to one of the service stations and before Boris Blount could get out and open their door, Margaery surged forward and opened it for them all. “Oh, thank goodness we’ve stopped! I don’t think I could have held on much longer.”

Everyone got out except Arya. Sansa looked back in at her. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Give me a minute.” She wanted just a few minutes alone. She was starting to get a headache.

Mandon Moore pulled up to the fuel pump and Blount opened her door and stuck his head inside. He appeared surprised to see her. “Do you mind if I just tidy up a little bit, Miss Stark?” He hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to er . . . visit the restroom? It’s still going to be a while before we get there.”

Arya made a face. She wasn't a three year old! Why did everyone think they needed to tell her what to do? She stomped across the pavement and threw open the door to the service station. She was immediately accosted by Sansa who called her over to greet Myrcella and Trystane. By the time she was finally able to excuse herself and use the restroom, she appeared to be the last one of her group left inside the building. Arya decided she could care less if the rest of them had to wait for her. She headed over to the snack aisle to find her herself some potato chips.

She searched for the familiar blue bag of salt and vinegar chips but was unable to find it. Eventually, she realized that that top shelf held some replacement stock and spotted a couple of bags of her favorite up there. She knew she was never going to be able to reach them.

She stepped up onto the bottom shelf in desperation but the chips were still out of her grasp. She was suddenly aware of a presence beside her and then her chips were snatched up by a massive hand.

“Hey!” Arya’s eyes dropped from the bag of chips to the face of the Hound. She quickly stepped off the bottom shelf and leaned back to stare up at him. He was still holding the chips aloft.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Arya reached for the bag. He lowered it slightly but when she stretched out her arm he lifted it a little higher, keeping it just out of her reach. “Really? Are you kidding me?” She fumed.

He smirked. “What’s the matter? I thought you were a wolf girl. Aren’t wolves supposed to be able to leap really high?”

“Give it to me you . . . you . . .”

He snorted. “You what?”

Arya was incensed. “You know what you are!” She snapped.

He raised his eyebrow. “Your gloriously tall hero?”

“What?” Arya sputtered. “Those aren’t exactly the words that come to mind.”

He rubbed his chin. “Well, I’m certainly not your gloriously little hero.”

Arya put her hands on her hips. “You’re not my glorious anything!” She shouted. “You’re a sorry son-of-a-” 

He cut her off. “Now, now. That’s not very ladylike.”

“I’m no lady. Give it to me!”

“Say pretty please.”

“Give it to me or else!”

“Give it to me or else? Is that how you talk to your boyfriend? I pity the poor man.”

Arya’s mouth fell open. She was going to kill him. She wasn’t sure when or how but he was a dead man.

Sandor spotted Mandon Moore at the register getting ready to pay for his coffee and realized it was time to stop fooling around. He looked down at Arya’s upturned face. Despite her flashing eyes, she was really rather pretty. He had always enjoyed annoying her. She never failed to respond with an entertainingly angry outburst. He tried hard to smother a smile. He supposed he’d teased her long enough. He lowered the bag of chips down and held it out to her. “Here.”

Arya quickly snatched the bag from his hand before he changed his mind and raised it out of her reach again.

As he gazed down at her, his smile slowly slipped away. “You just couldn’t follow my advice, could you?”

“You said to stay away from the Red Keep.” She glanced around the service station. “This isn’t the Red Keep.”

He shook his head and then strode away. That big dumb oaf! Arya thought to herself. Even if he’d been so much taller and impressive than she remembered, he didn’t know how close he came to getting a smackdown. There were plenty of ways around body armor. She smiled as she recalled kneeing Trant in a particularly sensitive location. She wondered how the Hound would like it if she kicked him in the same spot.

She noticed Tommen up near the front of the store and he waved her over. The Hound was at the coffee machine where a couple of young women stood behind him waiting for their turn. Tommen reached out and gave her a hug. Arya was a little startled but she embraced him in return.

“How have you been, Arya. I can’t believe it’s been so long since I last saw you.”

“Yeah, it has been awhile.” She noted he still wasn’t very tall but he was no longer the little boy she remembered. He was actually quite handsome. It was hard to believe he was related to Joffrey.

“How’s your family?” Tommen asked.

“Oh, they’re all fine. How are yours?”

Just then, the Hound turned from the coffee machine and one of the women behind him shrieked. She grabbed her friend and they both jumped back in fright. Arya was puzzled. As far as she could tell, he'd done nothing to them. The Hound’s face registered shock for half a second and then a fierce scowl took over. “What the fuck?” He growled.

The two women stumbled over their own feet to get away from him. He walked past them and then he resolutely got in line at the checkout stand. His whole body was rigid with suppressed anger.

An older employee wearing a red vest came out of nowhere and confronted him. “You there, what’s going on?”

The Hound turned to the little bald man and glared down at him from his towering height. The man took one look at the Hound and stepped back. “We don’t want any trouble in here!” He yelled from what he must have considered a safe distance.

The Hound grunted and turned away from him. “Leave me be.”

A crowd had gathered around the poor stricken women in support of their supposed ordeal and they were staring daggers at the Hound’s back. When it was the Hound’s turn to pay for his coffee, the cashier just stared at him. The older employee shook his head. The cashier crossed his arms and refused to ring him up.

“For fuck’s sake.” The Hound put down his coffee on the counter and took out his wallet and threw down a couple of bills. He picked up his coffee and turned to glare at everyone. He caught sight of Arya and Tommen staring at him and his frown deepened. Just then the door opened and yet another unpleasant member of the security detail entered the building. Of course, it was Meryn Trant. It was just her luck to have to deal with both Joffrey and Trant.

“Bunch of fucking cunts.” The Hound muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear as he pushed past Trant and exited through the glass doors.

Arya’s eyes followed him until she could no longer see him and then she turned to Tommen. He shrugged. “Sorry about that. Stuff like that happens all the time.”

Arya slammed her bag of prized potato chips onto the nearest shelf and marched out the door. She didn't want to admit that she had found herself angry on the Hound's behalf. How ridiculous was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	3. Careful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

A small lake came into view. It was completely surrounded by the forest except for a pretty little postage stamp size swimming beach with imported white sand. Joffrey pointed. “That’s Blackwater Lake. The higher we travel up the Blackwater Gorge, the narrower and swifter the river becomes."

They traveled beyond the lake as the road began to climb right alongside the river. Everyone leaned forward to see out the windows. Blue, green and orange kayaks started to appear. After several minutes they saw the first rubber raft. It was dodging reddish boulders worn round and smooth by the force of the water over time. The rafters were wearing life vests and helmets and were battling their way down the rushing steam.

Joff continued. “There are three dams along with three corresponding hydro-electric plants in the gorge. At the top is Deep Den Lake which is contained by the first dam, halfway down is the middle dam and the last dam contains the lake at the bottom which we just passed a few minutes ago. This section is called the middle river. It's about five miles long and is mostly all rapids one right after the other.” He motioned to a large, older brick building on the opposite side of the river. “That’s the middle hydro-electric plant, Powerhouse #2.”

Eventually, the river widened out a little. Joff pointed. “That's the middle dam. The area above that is called the upper river. It's about five miles long too. A stretch of it was narrowed and enhanced for the 1996 Summer Olympics whitewater events. There aren't as many rapids on the upper river but they're more intense. You can ride either the upper river or the middle river or both. We usually do both but you have to get out of the water and carry the raft around the middle dam and put it back into the river below.”

They arrived at the upper part of the river and saw a crowd of onlookers on a pedestrian bridge that spanned the water. Sidewalks lined both sides of the channel and flags that represented the nations that had competed in the Olympics were on display along the edge of the parking area closest to the river. Several rubber rafts were shooting the rapids. The boulders were enormous and the rafts were actually catching air as they flew out of the violent raging waters. The people inside were paddling for dear life and getting completely drenched. Arya couldn't wait to get on the water. Sansa and Margaery were exclaiming uncomfortably and didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic.

They must have seen fifty river rafting companies tucked into the trees along the road opposite the river. Eventually, they reached a turnoff high up on the mountain and a few miles beyond that was the small walled village of Stoney Sept. Its streets were lined with tourist shops and roving bands of tourists. There were plenty of bars, restaurants, specialty shops, arts and crafts, and fishing and camping gear available along the main street. 

They heard a series of bells chime. “Ah, they still ring the bells, do they?” Willas asked Joff.

Joff just stared at him in confusion.

“The Battle of the Bells?” Arya prompted but Joff only gave her a puzzled frown.

Willas beamed at Arya. Arya could feel her face flushing with pleasure. He then turned to Joff. “Your ancestor, Robert Baratheon, hid in this village during Robert’s Rebellion. The royalists searched for him here but couldn’t find him. Eventually their ancestors,” He nodded to Sansa and Arya, “Lord Eddard Stark and Lord Hoster Tully of the rebel forces came to his rescue and they defeated the royalists at the Battle of the Bells here.”

“The sept rang the bells to warn the citizens of the impending skirmish.” Arya finished.

“Oh, that must be the sept.” Sansa pointed to an ancient looking stone ruin set back on a slight hill. Joff shrugged. Obviously he either had no interest in his family history or was ignorant of it.

Willas continued to look around the village with interest. “This area also became the stomping ground of the Brotherhood without Banners later on. I believe their hideout was around here somewhere.”

They left the Riverlands and entered the Westerlands as they turned off the main thoroughfare and crossed over a bridge that spanned a much calmer section of the river. They left the village behind and wound their way up a narrow single-lane paved road through dense woodlands. They reached the summit of the mountain and a large sprawling complex made from split pine logs came into view. It was definitely no simple cabin in the woods. No one would be roughing it in a place like that. Riverspring Lodge was carved over the front entryway.

Boris Blount opened the door for them and they all tumbled out. The other limo pulled in behind them a few moments later. Arya watched as Meryn Trant exited the driver side door of the other vehicle. She smiled. His nose was still slightly swollen. He caught her looking at him and curled his lip as he glared at her in return.

Her attention was then drawn to the Hound as he let everyone out of the other vehicle. As the wind blew his hair away from his face and exposed his scars, she remembered how he’d been treated at the service station. It made her wonder for the first time if some of his anger might be justified.

Everyone swarmed up the back steps that led to a huge veranda that sported a spectacular view over the mountains. There was a large paved fieldstone patio directly below with a fire pit surrounded by Adirondack chairs. More chairs and a couple of small tables lined the porch. Arya became reacquainted with Loras and was greeted warmly by Renly when Loras introduced him.

Myrcella led them inside. The living space was one large open room with an enormous cathedral ceiling. It fairly gleamed with beautifully glowing pine; from the massive network of beams to the paneling and wide plank floors. The oversized sofas and chairs were covered in rich, dark leather with accent pillows, rugs and window shades in colors of red and gold. The sizable fieldstone fireplace sported a custom-made big screen television mounted above it. Wagon-wheel chandeliers adorned with elk antlers finished the rustic theme.

Two massive barn-type doors on rollers slid open to reveal the adjoining game room. A wall of floor to ceiling windows encompassed three pool tables and groupings of leather-backed bar stools. The opposite side of the room sported other games such as air hockey, foosball, and vintage pinball machines. More matching leather sofas and chairs were scattered throughout. The far wall contained a full bar as well as another wall-mounted big screen television.

Myrcella informed everyone that luncheon would be served shortly. The news didn’t stop nearly everyone from raiding the bar. Renly played the bartender and worked the taps. He filled thick, frosted mugs with a fine selection of draft beer. Trystane chopped up some apples and oranges to make Sangria while Joffrey popped the tops off a couple of bottles of Dornish Red.

Back in the great room, Willas descended the spiral staircase from the floor above. Arya was near enough to hear him as he murmured to Myrcella. “One of the beds needs attention.”

She didn’t hear the rest of the conversation but she had seen that he was limping and surmised that was the reason Margaery was concerned about him. She wondered if the awkwardness from his leg made it difficult for him to make his own bed or if he was just so used to his privileged upbringing that he'd never consider doing such a thing for himself. Arya had grown up with servants but her parents hadn’t believed in spoiling their children. She’d always had a list of chores and well as cleaning her own room and making her own bed.

Tommen interrupted her thoughts and challenged her to a game of air hockey. Although she had not initially been very interested in playing, that had quickly changed. The game began politely but then had escalated into a ferocious battle for superiority. She had been surprised at how the usually mild-mannered Tommen had become so competitive. Arya vowed to get even with him but when she saw Sansa head towards the stairs she excused herself and followed after her.

She caught up with her on the landing. The door on the right was partially open but Sansa turned to the door on the left. “This is our room. Apparently, Willas and Tommen are sharing the room across from us.”

Arya flopped down on one of the beds. They were both covered with matching heavy brown, beige and rust colored comforters. She looked more closely at the design. Surprisingly, bears, stags and wolves were frolicking in the woods together. “I couldn’t help but notice all the red and gold downstairs.”

Sansa lifted her eyebrow. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? Riverspring Lodge belongs to Tywin Lannister.”

“Uh, no. You must have forgotten to mention that part too. You really should have your memory tested, Sansa.” Arya made a face. “You’ve forgotten to mention a lot of things lately.”

Sansa unzipped her bag and began to hang up a couple of her dresses in the closet. They were startled by a loud clang and thump from the room across the hall.

“Its housekeeping.” Arya explained. “They’re making the bed for your precious Willas.”

Sansa attempted to hide the little smile playing around her lips. “He’s not _my_ Willas.”

“Not yet, anyway.” Arya fluttered her eyelashes. “Oh, Willas you gorgeous, gorgeous hunk of man, l must hang on every single word that drips from your honeyed lips.”

“Shut-up, Arya.” Sansa proceeded to press her lips together in irritation as she sorted through the rest of her clothing and began to place the remainder of it into the bureau.

Arya couldn’t resist goading her sister. “Oh,” She threw her hand to her forehead. “Corporate lawyers really turn me on! I can’t wait to learn all about contracts and mergers, you sexy thing.” Arya continued to tease as she snickered and then moaned loud and long. “Ohhhhh, you’re ever so hot, Willas!”

Sansa was about let loose on her sister but was momentarily distracted by another loud metallic clanking noise coming from the room across the hall. She refocused her attention on Arya and gathered up her ammunition for the attack. “What about you?” Sansa began a sickeningly sweet imitation of Arya. “Oh, Willas, you tasty little snack cake; let me tell you all about how the village of Stoney Sept featured in Robert’s Rebellion. Blah, blah, blah.” She sat on the edge of her bed and unzipped her make-up case. “Did you brush up on local history just so you could show off and make the rest of us look stupid?”

“What? I thought everyone knew about Robert’s Rebellion.”

Sansa sniffed. “Not all of us are bookworms like you, Arya. Some of us have an active and varied social life.”

“I have a social life!”

“Is that what you call it? You fight people with your little sword and when you get tired of that you fight them barehanded!”

“Are you kidding me?” Arya nearly shouted. “You haven’t got a clue. Fencing and jiu jitsu are tests of skill, strength, strategy and endurance that I enjoy with my friends and fellow students! Besides it was your precious Willas that brought up Robert’s Rebellion, not me.”

“Well, if we visit the village, try not to lord your vast historical knowledge over the rest of us, will you?”

“I’m a history major! I can’t help myself!”

Sansa walked into the bathroom and put some of her beauty supplies away in the vanity. She walked back into the bedroom. “Alright, I suppose it’s useless to try and stop you so I will allow you to bore us to tears but just remember I saw Willas first so he’s mine."

“Hmph.” Arya pouted as she reclined back on her pillow. “I suppose I could let you have him.”

“Thank you. You are so gracious.” Sansa rolled her eyes.

“If I let you have him, what do I get in return?”

Sansa thought for a moment and then snapped her fingers. “I know, how about some fudge brownies?”

"With black walnuts?"

"Sure."

“Deal! But don’t think I’m going to let you get away with trapping me on this mountain-top with a bunch of batshit-crazy Baratheons. Some sister you are! Why did you want me here in the first place?"

Sansa looked away. "I thought you might enjoy it. You like outdoor stuff.” She shrugged but then turned back and grinned. “Besides, you deserve it. You wrecked my car."

Arya sat up. "I told you I was sorry about that! Now, why don’t you tell me the real reason you wanted me here?"

"Okay, okay. I didn't want to be the only Stark here. Are you satisfied? Sometimes Margaery takes Joffrey’s side and it can get uncomfortable."

"Hah, you admit we are outnumbered! Don’t worry, though. I’ll never let them take us alive."

“Haha. Oh come on. The only bad one of the bunch is Joffrey. You already know Myrcella and Tommen and they are perfectly fine.” She said as she bent down on her knees and sorted through the jumbled contents of Arya's suitcase.

“Well, Tommen’s alright but I don’t really know Myrcella all that well. She was away at school in Dorne most of the time when we visited the Red Keep all those years ago. By the way, please explain to me why a smart girl like Margaery is with Joff of all people."

Sansa frowned, "I'm pretty sure she intends to marry him as a means to merge their business and political interests."

“Ugh! Do you mean to tell me that people still do things like that?" Arya was shocked. “Is it some sort of an arranged marriage then? I thought stuff like that went out of style ages ago.” Arya scratched her head. “Why would she ever agree to such a thing? Is her family threatening to cut off her inheritance or something unless she sacrifices herself?"

Sansa gave her an exasperated look. “No, silly. No one’s planning on locking her away in a tower until she agrees to the match either. Even if it was her grandmother’s idea, Margaery's pretty pragmatic."

"Do you mean idiotic? This _is_ Joff we're talking about here."

"I've tried to warn her but she refuses to listen.” Sansa had finished sorting Arya's things so Arya got up and picked up a handful of her jeans and shorts and shoved them into one of the empty dresser drawers. Sansa handed her some pajamas along with her swimsuit and underclothes. Arya dumped them into a different drawer and then she returned to her bed and flopped down lazily once again.

Sansa stacked their footwear on a shelf in the closet and then put their bags away. She tossed Arya’s make-up bag onto her bed and caught her eye. "Anyway, Joff is the only awful one here. Just try your best to avoid him.”

“Hmph. It’s not just Joff, its Meryn Trant and the Hound too.”

“Mmm. You’re right about Meryn Trant but Clegane’s not so bad.”

Arya sat up. “What! Are you insane? Of course he is. They call him the Lannister dog. He’s disgusting!”

Sansa began to hang up Arya's t-shirts. “Do you remember when I was young and dumb and had that crush on Joffrey?”

“Yuck. Do I ever, it was so gross.”

“I suppose I was pretty naïve back then. I can’t believe how I used to fawn all over him.” She shuddered. “Well, the Hound did his best to steer me away from him.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, he tried to open my eyes and make me see Joff for what he really is. Basically, he kind of told me to get my head out of the clouds and stop dreaming about Florian and Jonquil and wake up before I got myself into some real trouble.”

Arya stared at Sansa with her mouth open in disbelief. “Did he really?”

“Yes, yes he did.”

“He’s still awful, though.” Arya countered.

Sansa sniffed. “Just because he’s a little rude and likes to swear a lot doesn’t mean anything. You can be rude and you certainly enjoy swearing.”

“What? That’s different! Besides, he’s more than just rude. He killed Mycah’s dog.”

Sansa’s blue eyes widened. “Uh, who’s Mycah?”

Arya stared at Sansa incredulously. “Oh my Gods! How can you not remember the Crossroads Inn?”

Sansa frowned. She knew she had behaved very badly when she’d covered for Joff over his fight between Arya and some boy. Her dog, Lady, had been hit by a car in all the uproar and their father had been forced to end its suffering. Of course, Arya had lost Nymeria as well when her pup had run off into the woods.

“You do remember that the Hound killed Mycah’s dog, don’t you?”

Sansa cocked her head at her sister. “Was Mycah the butcher’s boy?”

“Yes, but that’s not the point! The point is that the Hound killed his dog!”

“I remember Joff’s mother was beyond angry. That dog bit Joffrey on the leg while Nymeria defended you and bit his arm.” Sansa frowned. “I know Cersei wanted the dog to be killed out of spite.”

“Yes, that was exactly what she wanted! I’m fully aware of how vindictive Cersei Lannister can be. The fact remains that the Hound _did_ it. He chased the dog down and killed it. He obeyed Cersei’s sick orders.”

Sansa sat down next to Arya on her bed. “I remember that Father told me that the dog was more or less a stray. Joff’s father told Clegane to bring the dog back because it wasn’t known whether or not the dog had ever been vaccinated and it needed to be kept under observation for rabies. He was concerned that Joff might have to undergo a series of rabies shots if the dog couldn’t be found.”

“Well, it would have served that stupid Joffrey right if he did have to get shots! Everything that happened was his fault.” Arya took a deep breath and tried to get hold of her emotions. “Look at all the pain he caused you and me and Mycah.” Arya turned to Sansa. “I bet he didn’t even need any rabies shots. I’m sure the dog was fine.”

“Hmm, I think you’re right.” Sansa’s phone chimed. “It’s Margaery, luncheon is ready. Come on, let’s go downstairs.” She paused and gave Arya a squeeze. “You know, not everyone is like our family. Maybe I shouldn’t have tricked you into joining us on the trip. Just avoid Joff and Clegane as much as you can.” She turned and left the door open as she exited the room and went down the stairs.

Arya continued to brood about what had happened at the Crossroads Inn while she absentmindedly studied a painting hanging on the wall near her bed. Oddly enough, it depicted a black bear wearing a red and black checked flannel shirt and a green hat decorated with a variety of colorful fishing lures. The bear appeared to be cheerfully reeling in a large trout from a mountain stream with a fly rod.

She heard the door creak open across the hall and she looked over just as the Hound stepped out of the room. He pulled the door closed behind him and then he visibly started as he caught sight of Arya.

They stared at each other in a shocked silence. Arya had believed the sounds she’d heard next door were from the maid. “What were you doing in there?” She heard herself ask.

Sandor thought he was alone. He’d thought the two women had left together. He’d heard everything they’d said. He could feel his face begin to heat up with embarrassment. He wanted nothing more than to escape her scrutiny but the Stark girl’s grey eyes seemed to pin him to the spot. “I was assembling the bed. Apparently, the staff brought up an extra bed but had neglected to put it together.”

“Oh.” She noticed he was holding a black metal toolbox by the handle. So that’s what Willas had meant when he told Myrcella about the bed. She was sure the Hound must have overheard her entire conversation with Sansa. She struggled to remember everything they’d said and was mortified about what she did remember.

Arya couldn’t help but notice the Hound didn’t seem like his usual smugly unpleasant self. He'd spoken rather quietly without any of his customary rude remarks. If anything, he was more than a little subdued. He turned away from her abruptly and made his way down the stairs without another word.

Arya closed her eyes. Shit! He had no business listening to their conversation. He should have let them know he was in the other bedroom. Well, he had made some noise but how was she supposed to know it was him? Then again, she supposed he had no way of knowing she was going to start talking about him either. 

Still, she refused to believe she could have upset him. He was the Hound! The Hound could care less about what anyone thought of him. He didn’t have _feelings_. Well, except for anger and bitterness. She supposed she could have made him angry like those women at the service station but he hadn’t seemed angry. He’d seemed upset. Why was she wasting her time trying to figure out what was wrong with him? How was she supposed to know he was listening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	4. Lake Deep Den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Early the next morning, Sandor dried off after his shower and stepped into his boxers. He looked into the mirror as he brushed his teeth and then combed his hair. When he was finished trimming his beard, he stared at his reflection. He thought once again about how the Stark girl had spoken about him with such vitriol. He had played it back in his mind several times since yesterday.

There were plenty of men just as bad or worse than him. It also seemed a good majority of them were given the benefit of the doubt before they were unilaterally condemned. He turned his head to the side to examine his burns. He wanted to believe it was his monstrous face that had him at a disadvantage but deep down he was afraid that his face had nothing to do with it. He was afraid that there was something inherently wrong with him on the inside and everyone knew it.

Why was he surprised about the Stark girl? The whole world already despised him. He knew small children were frightened of him but he hadn’t realized they hated him too. Well, Arya Stark wasn’t a little girl any longer but it hurt to know that she’d loathed him all along just like everyone else. It was humiliating now that he understood what she really thought of him. He thought of all those times he’d teased her and she’d stood up to him and bitten his head off in return. He had to admit he still admired her. Not very many people were brave enough to dare to talk back to someone like him.

Sandor finished getting dressed and put on his body armor and tactical gear. He holstered his Glock 22. He was happy that he was in the mountains. It would be a welcome relief from his usual boring routine. The security team was finally allowed to dress more casually in t-shirts and shorts. He covered his shoulder holster with a lightweight shirt that he purposefully left unbuttoned. He suspected that although the security detail was supposed to blend in they still appeared to be exactly what they were. Oh well. He would be even happier tomorrow when they went rafting. Not only did he enjoy it, it was the only time they ever got to remove their Kevlar while on duty.

He stepped out onto the veranda with his cup of coffee just as the sun rose. The dark-haired Stark girl stood down below on the fieldstone patio. She was facing away from him and towards the sunrise. She was performing the slow, deliberate movements of tai-chi. He’d never tried it himself but he was familiar with it. It was mostly practiced in the Far East across the Narrow Sea. In addition to being a slow, low-impact exercise, it was also a form of meditation.

He enjoyed watching her graceful form. If he were honest, he’d also had to admit he enjoyed how well her yoga pants clung to her backside. He’d overheard her mentioning to her sister that she still fenced. He remembered how her father had hired some world renowned instructor for her. No one could ever accuse her of lack of determination. He’d also overheard she studied martial arts now as well. He could believe it. He thought about how she’d attempted to defend herself against Trant in high heels. She was incredibly toned. He frowned when it occurred to him that he shouldn’t be staring at her.

Of course, she inevitably turned and caught him watching her. She was obviously startled and then she scowled and narrowed her eyes. He had the distinct impression that if he were smart he’d head back indoors immediately. Unfortunately, no one had ever accused him of being smart. She marched up the steps and clomped purposefully across the wooden planks of the veranda. She paused at the door briefly but then abandoned it and headed straight for him.

She put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “What’s your problem?”

He could have kicked himself when he blurted out the first thing that came into his head. “I never killed the dog.”

Arya stared at him incredulously. “What?” She couldn’t believe she’d heard him right. Suddenly, she was furious. “Oh, really?” All the calming effects of her recent meditation went out the window. Adrenaline shot through her veins. “You liar!” Her hands clenched into fists. “Do you take me for some kind of fool? I know what you did!”

Before she had a chance to react, the Hound took two quick steps with his extraordinary long legs until he was standing over her. She instinctively took a step backward. He was pretty angry. She belatedly realized she might be in danger.

“I said I didn’t kill that dog!” He thundered.

He was frightening her quite badly but she would never admit it. She lifted her chin defiantly. “If you didn’t kill it, who did?”

As he glared down on the damnable young woman, it dawned on him that she had both of her hands up in a defensive posture. She was afraid of him but she wasn’t about to back down. He had to admit she had some brass. Shame washed over him. Was he no better than Meryn Trant? He took a step back.

Sandor rubbed his forehead as he made an effort to rein in his anger. “No one killed the dog. Well, what I mean is someone was responsible but not directly.” He answered much more calmly. “By the time I found the dog, it had caught its head in a snare and had strangled itself while trying to get loose.”

“What? A snare? I don’t understand. I . . .”

“Surely, they have snares up north, don’t they?” He rolled his eyes. “A snare is a looped metal wire used to trap animals. It was probably set to control the coyote population.”

“I’ve heard of a snare but that’s an unlikely story! I don’t believe you.” She had an overwhelming urge to slap him.

“I don’t care what you think, Girl.” He turned on his heel and belatedly attempted to get as far away from her as fast as possible.

“Wait!” Arya called. He didn’t know what had made him do as she asked. He could hear her footsteps as she closed in on him. “What about my wolf, Nymeria? She . . .” Her voice shook.

He turned around to face her and saw that her big grey eyes were filled with unshed tears. She continued. “I sent Nymeria away. I was afraid for her. I never saw her again. You didn’t kill her did you?”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“You don’t think she might have been caught in another snare, do you?”

Sandor swallowed. What was it with this girl? When she wasn’t busy accusing and attacking him and making him feel bad, she was making him feel bad for her. “No, Girl. I think your wolf’s head would have been too big for the snare.”

Her dark eyebrows came together as she struggled to maintain her composure. “What about her foot? Don’t animals get their feet caught too?”

Seven Hells! How he wished he’d kept his big mouth shut and had never spoken to her at all. He was deathly afraid she would cry. He desperately wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. “I doubt your wolf was caught in a trap. Wolves are pretty smart.”

She looked deep into his eyes as if she was gauging his truthfulness. He did his best to hold her gaze. There was no sense in letting her think it was a possibility.

Finally, she nodded. “Yes, wolves are smart.” Her eyes traveled down the length of his body and then back up again. “They’re smarter than dogs at any rate.”

. . . . . 

They loaded up the limousines and headed over to Deep Den after lunch. They made their way to the downtown tourist district and the scenic railway depot. Meryn Trant cursed as he drove up and down in bumper to bumper traffic so that his passengers could get a look at the attractions as he threaded his way through the narrow streets and careless pedestrians. Tommen had insisted Arya ride with him, so the six of them squeezed into one limo while Sansa, Willas, Margaery and Joff had plenty of room in the other.

After much arguing between the occupants of both vehicles, they finally decided they’d rather skip the town and head over to Lake Deep Den like they had originally planned. The lake was formed from the uppermost dam on the Blackwater Rush. The water was cold and clear.

Since the lake was only about eleven miles long and wasn’t sufficiently large enough for a yacht, the Baratheons kept a 24 passenger double decker pontoon boat at the marina. There was a separate sleek, black, high powered speed boat kept there as well. The security team used the speed boat to keep pace off the starboard side of the pontoon in an effort to allow their charges a little privacy.

After Joff gave them a tour of the lake, he anchored in a secluded cove with a rocky little beach. There was a plastic slide on the upper deck that dropped over the side. Half of them took turns plunging into the water like overgrown children while Sansa and Margaery bobbed in the water but refused to go down the slide because they didn’t want to get their hair wet.

When Joff eventually dunked Margaery, she got mad and returned to the boat. She made her way up to the privacy of the upper deck. Joff followed her while making a lame attempt at an apology. Willas claimed his injured leg was bothering him so he and Sansa climbed aboard as well. He stretched out on the bench seat while she fussed over him and tried to make him comfortable. The rest of them formed two teams and took turns trying to defend their position on a rubber float while the others tried their best to push them off.

Arya joined Sansa and Willas after she took an accidental elbow to the face from Tommen. She searched the fridge until she found some bottled lemonade and sat down at the table. Willas offered her some of his Cheese Nips. She couldn’t help but notice the scars on his knee.

He followed her gaze. “I’m fine most of the time. My horse fell on me during a competition with Trystane’s Uncle Oberyn. I’ve had more than a few surgeries since then.”

“I’m sorry.” Arya murmured politely.

Willas made room for Sansa to sit beside him and she took his hand. Arya noticed and raised her eyebrow at Sansa. Sansa made a face and stuck her tongue out at her sister. She wondered why Arya had suddenly become shy and had worn a t-shirt over her swimsuit. Could she have become self-conscious around boys after all these years? That didn’t sound like Arya at all. She doubted she had a self-conscious bone in her body.

Willas was busy munching on his snacks oblivious to the sisters’ thoughts. Arya glanced over her shoulder as Renly climbed aboard. He came up behind her and reached over her shoulder and snatched a cracker out of her hand and wolfed it down. He laughed as he dripped freezing water into the gap between her shirt and her neck.

“Hey!” She glared at him in mock anger.

Willas chuckled and passed the box of crackers over to her. She turned back to Renly and made a big show of eating another cracker in front of him while smacking her lips.

He sat down beside her. “Hmph! You’re a cruel woman, Arya Stark. You would let a humble, yet lovable man like me starve to death.”

Loras looked up as he climbed the ladder onto the boat. “Are you kidding? He’s pulling your leg. Don’t give him any food. He may be lovable but he’s certainly not humble.”

Renly choked out a laugh. “Look who’s talking! You’re the least humble person here. No one’s more conceited than you.”

Loras reached into the fridge for a bottle of beer. He searched the compartment beside it and came up with a bag of corn chips and then joined them at the table. Loras smiled and showed them his dimples. “I can’t help it if I have so much to brag about. Someone has to be the best at everything.”

Renly groaned and put his head into his hands but it was obvious he was laughing.

Willas sat up on the bench seat and stared at Loras. “You’re the best at everything? Hah! I could tell some stories.”

“Fine! I suppose Margaery and Garlan are _almost_ as wonderful as me but as far as I’m concerned, you’re just lucky.”

Willas lifted his eyebrow. “Why am I lucky?”

Loras got up from his seat and sat beside him and threw his arm over his shoulder and winked at Arya and Renly. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re lucky you have someone as charming and intelligent as me for a brother.”

While Loras was laughing, Willas got him in a headlock. Sansa had to scoot out of the way as they struggled good-naturedly. “You’re not funny! Take that back, you blockhead!”

Loras struggled to get free. “Help! Renly, help me!”

Renly grunted. “Fat chance, you asked for it.”

They all continued to chat while the sun warmed them. It wasn’t blazing hot like it was in Braavos but it was definitely warmer than up North. Arya glanced at her sister to make sure she wasn’t getting sunburned. Sansa had started talking politics with Willas and Renly. Gods! There wasn’t enough alcohol on the boat to make Arya want to listen to them.

She glanced off to starboard and noticed the security team chatting away in the speed boat. The Hound was wearing sunglasses and lounging on the bench seat in the front of the boat. He looked different in shorts. His legs seemed to stretch out for miles. She could see the definition in his calf muscles from where she was sitting. He was laughing at something Moore said and she realized it changed everything about him. He almost looked human. He caught sight of her watching him. He pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head and frowned at her uncertainly.

Arya jerked her head away quickly. Seven Hells! She was an idiot. She could feel her face burning from embarrassment. Sansa glanced at her and offered her the tube of sunblock she had just finished applying to herself. Shit! She must be getting heatstroke or something. Her brain obviously must not be working right. She stood and went to the fridge for a bottle of water. Maybe she was dehydrated.

As she sat back down she heard Renly laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to bring it up at the next meeting. I’m sure it will make me super popular.”

Arya turned towards him. “What would make you popular?”

Loras snorted. “Yeah, I tune him out too. I could care less for politics. It’s so incredibly boring. You would think he was the Prime Minister the way he carries on and not just a member of the Small Council.”

Arya did a double take. “Wait, what? You’re on the Small Council?”

The skin around Renly’s eyes crinkled when he grinned. “Ah, apparently my fame has not spread as far and wide as I had believed.”

“Arya!” Sansa exclaimed. “Don’t you know anything? Renly is the Master of Laws.”

Arya scowled. “Sorry, I’ve lived abroad for the last four years.”

Renly pointed his finger at her. “I remember you, you know. I was still in school but working as an intern for my brother Robert while your father was his Hand. I remember you threatened to stab me to death with a little sword. I believe I had the misfortune to foolishly step on your toe.”

“Oh, that sounds exactly like something she would do.” Sansa nodded.

Arya gave her sister a dirty look and turned back to Renly. “Were you friends with my father?”

“Well, I didn’t know your father nearly as well as Robert or Stannis. I’m quite a bit younger than them but I had known him from when I was a boy and I enjoyed his company while working at the Red Keep.” His head tilted upwards while he reminisced. “He was the most principled man I ever knew. If only he had realized that everyone who pretended to be honorable was not.”

. . . . .

By the early evening, everyone had had enough fun in the sun and was ready to go back to the lodge. After Arya had changed out of her wet swimsuit and shirt, she followed Tommen up the wooden gang plank that led from the marina to the shore. He started hopping on one foot and grabbed the hand rail. He lifted his foot and examined the sole. He had picked up a sliver of wood underneath the skin. Arya helped him over to a picnic table. They both attempted to remove the splinter and failed. The Hound joined them and Tommen showed him his wound.

“I’ll be right back.” The Hound said as he jogged off towards the parked limousine.

Arya narrowed her eyes at his retreating back. “Are you going to let him help you?”

Tommen looked up at her with a surprised look on his face. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean, do you trust him?”

Tommen scoffed. “Of course, I trust him.” He studied Arya. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. He just seems like a brute. That’s all.”

Surprisingly, Tommen took offense. “That’s not very nice, Arya. You shouldn’t judge him because of the way he looks. He’s always taken good care of me.”

Arya was taken aback by his response. “Uh, that’s not what’s bothering me.” She protested. Tommen’s usually friendly demeanor had disappeared. Oh great. Now Tommen thought she was a big fat jerk. “No, it’s just . . . do you remember when we traveled from Winterfell to King’s Landing with your family?”

“Of course.”

“Well, do you recall when there was some trouble at the Crossroads Inn and Joff was bitten by a dog?”

Tommen nodded.

Arya felt stupid but she blundered on. “When the Hound brought the dog back, it was dead.”

“Oh yeah. I remember now. The dog had died after it had been caught in a trap. I suppose it was really lucky that Clegane found it because Joff was spared some really painful shots.”

Arya’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You know, you really shouldn’t call him the Hound. His name is Sandor Clegane.”

Myrcella walked up the gang plank and joined them. She bent down and examined her brother’s foot. “How’d you manage to do that?”

Tommen blushed. “I was barefoot.”

Myrcella laughed. “Well, that was stupid.”

The Hound arrived with a first aid kit. He knelt down on one knee and used an antiseptic to clean the area and then removed the splinter with a pair of tweezers.

Tommen beamed at him. “Thanks! Now that you’ve pulled a thorn from a lion’s paw, I’m going to have to be your friend for life.”

Myrcella stood up from her seat on the bench next to Tommen. “You’re not a lion. You’re a stag.”

There was something in the tone of her voice that caused both Arya and the Hound to glance at her. Arya noticed an odd look that passed between Myrcella and the Hound before he looked down and closed the first aid kit.

Tommen protested. “Well, I’m still half lion, aren’t I?”

“The back half.” Myrcella laughed.

The Hound stood up. “I’ll have Trant bring the car around so you won’t have to walk as far.” He stepped away to talk to Trant who had followed the rest of their group over to the parking lot.

Tommen turned to Myrcella. “Do you remember that dog that bit Joff at the Crossroads Inn? Arya’s upset at Clegane because the dog was dead when he brought it back. What do you remember?”

Arya was embarrassed. She shook her head. “No, it’s alright. It’s just that the dog belonged to a friend of mine. I didn’t . . . I didn’t know what to think.”

Myrcella gathered her long blond hair into a ponytail. “I heard it was strangled in a trap. That is so inhumane! I don’t know how people can murder innocent animals. I’m not even sure I believe in hunting even if the hunter eats what he kills. I couldn’t do it.” Myrcella nodded towards the Hound. “Anyway, Clegane would never hurt a dog. His grandfather was a kennel master. His family sigil is three black dogs on a yellow field, you know. No one treats our dogs better than Clegane. I’m pretty sure he likes dogs more than people.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	5. Flame Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Later that evening, they gathered around the picnic tables on the patio at the lodge and devoured some charbroiled steaks, loaded baked potatoes and grilled shrimp kabobs made with mushrooms, onions and a variety of colorful bell peppers drizzled with olive oil. To top it all off, they had some strawberry shortcake with whipped cream for dessert. They washed it all down with several bottles of fine Arbor Red.

Renly uncovered the pile of cut logs and stacked several of them in the fire pit and started a crackling blaze as the sun went down. It wasn't long before the flickering flames attracted Loras, Joff, Myrcella and Trystane and they filled the chairs around the fire. Arya and Tommen were nearby playing an aggressive game of tetherball in the glow from the firelight.

The alcohol continued to flow freely as Trystane went inside and returned with his acoustic guitar. His dark curls fell over his eye as he strummed some Dornish folksongs. Joff was arguing with Renly. Arya wasn’t paying very close attention to their conversation.

Myrcella began to sing La Luna and Trystane accompanied her. He was an excellent tenor. They were really quite good together. Joff continued to talk even louder but then Loras joined in the chorus as they attempted to drown out Joffrey’s big mouth. Arya heard a laugh and looked up at the far end of the veranda. She could barely make out Meryn Trant up there leaning against the rail. She wondered if that section of the building housed the security team.

Suddenly, the music stopped. “What did you say?” Trystane said as his voice rose.

Joffrey sat upright and puffed out his chest. “I _said_ no wonder you don’t have any manners. After all, you had no mother to teach you anything.”

Trystane sprang up onto his feet. He whipped the guitar strap over his neck and placed the guitar roughly onto his empty chair. “I have a mother.”

Joff gave a low, mocking laugh. “Oh, that’s right. She’d not dead. She just chose to abandon you.”

“You fucking bastard!” Trystane yelled as he pounced on Joff. He yanked him up out of his chair and they stumbled around until they were clear of the fire. Joff had Trystane in a bear hug and was trying to hold his arms down to prevent him from hitting him. Trystane broke free and punched Joff in the mouth.

Joff nearly lost his balance but was able to regain his footing. He stared at the Dornishman in shock before he lunged forward and tried to claw at Trystane's face as his arms pinwheeled wildly. Myrcella started to scream as her boyfriend knocked Joff on the ground. Trystane tried to follow through and go after Joff again but by that time Renly and Loras had grabbed him and were holding him back.

Tommen stood beside Arya and watched the brawl. Arya pressed her lips together to contain the little smile that threatened to break free. It was about time that someone had finally put Joff in his place. She looked over at Trystane again and couldn’t quite hide her admiration.

No one helped Joffrey up from the ground so he scrambled up alone. The two-bit weasel could see that his opponent's arms were being held so he tried to get in a free shot at him. Trystane easily kicked out at him and Joff went flying backwards and fell to the ground again. Myrcella soothed her boyfriend's hurt feelings and attempted to calm him down.

“Fuck you, Joff! You say anything about my mother again and I’ll tear you to shreds!” Trystane spat on the ground near Joff’s head before the others led him away towards the house.

Joff got up slowly. He glared at Tommen. “Thanks for your support.”

Tommen shrugged. “Hey, that was your battle. You started it.”

Joff caught sight of Trystane’s guitar and went after it. Arya was quicker. She snatched it up and skipped out of his reach and followed the others up towards the house. She glanced up at Trant on the veranda. She thought she saw the pudgy outline of Blount too. They were pretty laid-back for bodyguards she thought to herself. She was surprised they hadn’t seemed very interested in coming to Joffrey’s rescue.

After Arya returned Trystane’s guitar, she glanced into the game room where she saw Sansa and Willas with their heads bent closely together on one of the sofas. They appeared to be whispering sweet nothings to one another as they gazed adoringly into each other’s eyes. Margaery was comforting Joff with little kisses to his forehead as she ran her fingers through his hair. Arya rolled her eyes at her sister but Margaery’s display of affection made her slightly ill.

She went back outdoors and joined Tommen beside the fire. It had begun to get chilly. As they relaxed in the warmth of the cozy flames, they began to talk about themselves. He told her how he had just graduated from KLU and was going to start his masters degree in business administration and how much he hated it. He had wanted to be a school teacher but his grandfather wouldn’t hear of it. Arya told him her dream was to someday find a way into the Citadel and get a look at some of the ancient books hidden away in there.

Tommen laughed. "Why don't you just become a Maester, Arya?"

"Are you kidding me? Don't you know that women aren't allowed to join the order?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot." He giggled.

She wondered just how much he'd had to drink. “Tommen, do you remember how much fun we had playing hide and seek together in the maze at the Red Keep?”

Tommen scoffed. “Yeah, I remember all right. When it was your turn to look for me, you would just ditch me and leave.”

Arya laughed. “I never . . .”

“Arya! Tell the truth, you know you did! I would wait around forever hiding underneath a bench or behind a statue for you to come and find me.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I suppose I wasn’t always very nice.”

“You were always going off to fence with the world’s greatest swordsman or whoever he was. You have no idea how jealous that made me. I begged and begged my mother to let me train with you but she said your instructor was just some phony, washed-up old liar.”

Arya jumped out of her chair. “What! My instructor was Syrio Forel, the greatest swordsman who ever lived! He was once the First Sword of the Sealord of the Free City of Braavos.”

Tommen stood up and put his hands on her shoulders. “Calm down. I believe you.” He gently pushed Arya back into her seat. “I think my mother only said that because she didn’t want me to learn how to fence. She still thinks I’m a baby if you want to know the truth.”

“Hmm.” Arya was still a little hot under the collar but she eventually relaxed. “I’m sorry. Have you ever tried standing up to your mother or grandfather?”

Tommen stared at her. “Are you kidding me? Have you _met_ my family?”

Arya had the grace to give him a sympathetic nod. “Yeah, I know. After my father died my mother put a lot of pressure on me too.” Arya sighed. “I sure wish he had never fallen down the stairs. Do you remember it?”

Tommen frowned. “Yeah, I remember. I was in the solar with my mother. We heard your sister wailing from the front hall. I can’t believe Blount just ran in and blurted out that your father was dead. What an awful way to find out. At least when my father died, my Uncle Tyrion tried to prepare us and told us as gently as possible.” Tommen rubbed the back of his neck. “Wait, you were at the Red Keep. Were you there when that stupid Blount came rushing in?” His green eyes sought hers. “I really hope you didn’t find out that way.”

Arya looked away and chewed on her lip. Her hand was gripping the end of the wide armrest on her Adirondack chair. Tommen reached out and put his hand over hers. His kindness drew her attention back to him. She shook her head slowly. “No, I had just finished training with Syrio and I went into the Tower of the Hand to speak to my father and I . . . I found him.”

Tommen’s eyes widened. “Oh my Gods, Arya! I didn’t know.” He sucked in his breath. “That must have been awful!”

“Yeah, it was. It was only for a few moments though. Some recruiter from the Night’s Watch came in the door behind me and whisked me away. He’d had an appointment with my father. His name was Yoren.”

Tommen gripped her hand tighter. “Oh, Arya. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too.” It was true she hadn’t particularly liked Robert Baratheon but he was still Tommen’s father.

They both sat there in silence and brooded. After awhile Tommen offered to bring her another bottle of Evian water. He’d only been gone a few minutes when Arya was startled by Joffrey as he spoke from the veranda. “Dog, the fun is over. Go down there and put out the fire.”

She glanced up and could vaguely see three men near the far end of the porch in the darkness. It was obvious which one was the Hound. He was much taller than the other two. He shoved the pudgy form of Boris Blount forward.

“I said I wanted you to do it, Dog.” Joff said petulantly.

After a moment of hesitation, the Hound used the steps nearest to him to reach the patio. Since the lodge was built partially inside the top of the mountain, the veranda was held up with support beams above the lowest level of the building. He walked underneath the space below the veranda and a minute or two later he came out carrying a large metal bucket.

The Hound stopped several feet from the fire. Arya looked up at his face and realized his eyes were transfixed by the dancing flames. The firelight flickered eerily over his scars and the shadows created the illusion that the damaged flesh was alive and writhing in the reddish glow.

He swallowed reflexively. Arya had heard the story of how he had been burned. She had listened while her creepy Uncle Petyr had told Sansa. The Hound’s hands shook. She could almost feel the fear emanating from him as he struggled to face the fire or perhaps the horror of his memories.

She’d seen horses that were wild with fright when a stable at Winterfell had burned. The whites of their eyes had shown as they rolled in terror. She swore she had heard them scream. Some of them had been singed and she would never forget the smell of burnt horsehair. When they had finally gotten the stable door open, the horses had stampeded madly, stumbling and running into each other and anything in their path. It was as if the Stranger himself was after them. Arya knew she would never be able to come close to understanding what the Hound had endured.

He caught her off guard when he glanced over at her. “What are you looking at?” He snapped as he pitched the water from the bucket over the flames.

The fire hissed with a vengeance but the Hound had already turned and strode away. She could hear Joff's cruel laugh from up on the veranda and she watched as he went inside the house. Trant and Blount had made themselves scarce as well. As soon as Joff disappeared, Arya leapt out of her chair and followed the Hound. He had knelt down at the tap while he refilled the pail. He didn’t see her until he stood up and turned around. “What the fuck?” He exclaimed as some of the water sloshed over the top of the bucket.

Arya opened her mouth but no words came out.

“Well, what is it?” He snarled. “Are you still accusing me of that dog’s death? For the last time; I did not kill that poor, unfortunate animal! I won’t deny I’ve had to perform many unpleasant tasks for my fine, upstanding employers but that wasn’t one of them. Maybe when you get a little older, you’ll realize that not everyone is born with the world at their feet!” He slammed the bucket down on the top of a picnic table. “Sometimes the world can be very ugly!”

Arya stood up to her full height and threw her shoulders back. “It’s true I was born with more than my fair share of advantages but don’t you dare take me for some spoiled princess. I know the world is dangerous place. I know all about unfairness! I’ve seen some ugly things! Do you think my father’s broken neck was pretty?”

Arya struggled to hold herself together. She would die before she would fall apart in front of the Hound. “I don’t know why you always have to be so hateful.” She retorted. “I wasn’t going to accuse you about the dog again. I admit I may have been wrong about that. I just . . . I just wanted to . . . I just thought you might need . . . oh never mind!” She turned and fled up the stairs. Sandor stared after her in surprise as the anger drained out of him.

. . . . .

Sandor lay awake in his bed staring at the shadows on the ceiling. It was going to be a long day tomorrow and he knew he needed his sleep but he couldn’t stop thinking about how humiliated he’d been in front of the Stark girl. She had followed him to do what? Show him pity? No thanks. He didn’t need her fucking pity.

He didn’t need anyone. He could take care of himself. He’d learned the hard way that people could be very cruel. He couldn’t trust them and he didn’t need them. He didn’t need comfort. He didn’t need to be held. He didn’t need a stupid young girl’s pity. He was perfectly fine on his own. Maybe she had only meant to apologize for accusing him unjustly about the dog. Although he doubted it; she didn’t seem like the type to ever apologize about _anything_.

. . . . .

Arya was trying her best to fall asleep. She had heard they would be on the river for at least six hours the next day but she couldn’t stop thinking about the Hound. She should have known not to get too close to him. He was just one of those unfriendly dogs that might turn and around and bite you without warning. She was a little ashamed she had lost her temper but he had shouted at her too.

She was just drifting off to sleep when Sansa entered the room. “Arya, are you awake?”

“No, I’m sleeping.” She mumbled as she put her pillow over her head.

Sansa sat on her bed. “What happened to you earlier? Tommen said you disappeared.”

Arya removed the pillow. It was too dark to see Sansa but she turned towards the sound of her voice. “Nothing happened.”

“Oh, I thought you might have had a problem with Joff. He was in an awfully bad mood after he and Trystane got into it.”

“No, he never did anything to me.” Arya smiled in the darkness. “You should have seen it. Joff said some horrible things about Trystane’s mother and then Trystane popped him in the mouth. Joff still doesn’t know how to fight. He was trying to claw at Trystane’s face like a feral cat.”

Sansa snorted. “I’m kind of sorry I missed it.”

“A pitched battle could have taken place out on the back lawn and you never would have noticed. You were too busy making kissy faces with your new sweetheart.”

“Shut up. I was not.”

Arya smacked her lips.

“Cut it out, Arya! Willas is the kindest man ever.”

“How can you be so sure? You only met him a couple of days ago.”

Sansa sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand. He’s just special, that’s all.”

Arya was glad it was too dark for Sansa to see her expression. Sansa had once thought, Joffrey as well as a couple other losers were special too. She really hoped Willas was different.

It wasn’t Sansa’s fault. All the Starks were too trusting. She loved her father but he really should have warned them that not everyone was trustworthy or a good person. He should have told them that safety was just an illusion and something bad could happen to anyone at any time. Then she thought of what Renly had said earlier about her father. It was true; he was too trusting for his own good. At least they’d had a loving a family. Her thoughts turned to the Hound once again. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for him.

Arya snuggled down beneath her covers. She fell asleep before Sansa had finished her nightly beauty routine. At first she dreamed of friendly fly fishing bears but later her dreams became confused and disjointed. She vaguely recalled dreaming of Nymeria and a big black dog with a disfigured face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	6. Whitewater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

They arrived at BwB Rafting early the next morning. While they exited the two limousines, another group was loaded up onto an old school bus that had been painted white with several blue rubber rafts lashed to the top. As the other group turned out of the parking lot, they stared at them through the dusty windows with wide eyes. Arya supposed that their limos did seem a little pretentious.

They were greeted by two men who checked over their clothing and shoes. Myrcella had already explained to them that they had to wear a shirt, shorts or leggings on the trip. Sneakers or water shoes were also required to protect their feet from any sharp rocks on the river bottom.

A grizzled, bearded man with a tattered leather eye patch held up his hand for silence. “I’m pleased that you all have dressed appropriately. Although, you’re such a fine looking group, I admit I wouldn’t have minded if a few of you had only brought a swimsuit and it had been ripped from you in the current. I’m Beric Dondarrion by the way. This is Thoros.” Beric flashed them a mischievous grin.

“We’re going to spend a few minutes going over water safety. It’s up to you whether you pay attention or not but . . .” He motioned to his eye patch. “I used to think I already knew everything there was to know too. I don’t know how many times I had to die before I figured out that I didn’t.” He chuckled. “I’m a helluva lot wiser now. Don’t worry; we still plan on having a good time.” He pointed to Thoros. “At least half of you are in for a real treat! He’s the maddest fucker on the river.”

The red-haired Thoros shook his wild flowing mane. “Nah, I’m thankful for my friend’s good opinion of me but he’s been known to twist the truth a time of two. Actually, there is no one more dangerous than Beric.” After their little speech, they threw their arms around each other’s shoulders and then they both burst out laughing. Arya was certain they were both more than a little drunk.

Afterwards, they were instructed to leave their valuables locked inside their vehicles and make sure their pockets were empty. Then they were given their life jackets and helmets and properly strapped up. After they were all seated on the bus and the door was closed, they were given a waiver to sign that absolved BwB from liability in case of injury or death from this day forward until the end of time in perpetuity; forever. It was pretty obvious they were all doomed.

Their old bus chugged slowly up the gorge as the gears ground painfully and the bus shimmied as if it was about to shake apart. They were sharing the bus with several other groups and nine rafts were stacked into tiers onto the top of the bus. Arya was scared to death the bus wasn’t going to make it. She was afraid they would lose momentum, their brakes would fail and they would slip backwards down the mountain like the train in the classic children’s story the Little Engine that Could. If by some miracle that didn’t happen, she was afraid the top-heavy load would cause them to tip over if they took a curve in the road too sharply.

While Arya silently chanted under her breath, “I think I can, I think I can” as she willed the bus to make it up the steep grade, no one else appeared to be worried. Their guide, Beric, was actually singing as he drove the rickety death trap. Arya was sitting next to Tommen as he chatted away obliviously. Naturally, the bus didn’t even have seat belts! From the way they were bouncing along in their seats, the suspension on the old bus must have been non-existent as well. Arya debated just how embarrassing it would be to request to be left on the side of the road. Whose brilliant idea was it to hire this motley crew?

After they arrived at the launch point upstream, Beric climbed the ladder on the back of the bus and untied the rafts. Thoros directed the Hound and Mandon Moore as well as some others to help lower them onto the paved ramp. They were all instructed to pitch in and carry the rafts to the water and everyone took hold of the ropes except for Joffrey.

After the rafts were situated at the water’s edge, Beric turned to Joff. “Do you have health issues, son? You may sit next to me so I can be of assistance to you if necessary.”

Joffrey screwed up his face. “No, there’s no problem. I don’t need to carry the raft.” He nodded towards the Hound and Moore. “That’s what I have them for.”

“Oh, aye. I understand.” The grizzled man looked over Joff from head to toe. “Of course, you’re never going to put on any muscles that way, boy. A word of advice if you don’t mind; the ladies are generally more attracted to a man when he doesn’t have the body of a nine year old girl.” Beric laughed and clapped Joff on the back. Joff clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth as his face turned bright red.

Thoros secured his long hair into a topknot and then strapped on his white helmet. He picked up a paddle. “Remember, the most important thing to do if you fall out is to curl up into a ball and then float on your back with your feet facing downriver. Otherwise you might break your arms or legs. Whatever you do, don’t try to stand up. Your foot may get caught in a crevice between the rocks and then you’d be in serious trouble. Don’t try to swim against the current either. Someone will get to you eventually or throw you a rope. If not, try to make it to the right side of the river after you’ve come out of the rapid and the water is calmer.”

He then climbed into the raft. “If we say give me two, three or four that means to paddle two, three or four times. If I say right two, that means the people on the right hand side paddle; same for the left. If I say get down it means slip off your seat into the bottom of the raft and lift the paddles out of the water and hold them straight up in the air. He demonstrated the moves. Get up means get back on your seat. Right slide means everyone slides over to the right, left slide means slide to the left. Now, pay attention, everyone. This is how you brace your feet to keep yourself from falling out. Any questions?”

Sansa raised her hand.

“Yes, pretty lady?” Thoros leered.

“Uh, what do you mean, someone will pick us up?”

Thoros scratched his straggly beard. “Well no one wants to leave anyone behind. There are hundreds of rafts on this river at any one time. If you go overboard on the upper river and we don’t get you, someone else will pick you up and we’ll wait for you at the halfway point. If you fall out on the middle river, we’ll wait for you at the end." He shrugged. “It’ll be fine.”

Sansa and Arya exchanged looks. Everyone was looking around at each other nervously except for the Baratheons and their two bodyguards, the Hound and Mandon Moore.

“Bwahahaha!” Thoros laughed so hard he bent over and grabbed his knees. “Just kidding! We would never leave you behind!”

Maybe it wasn’t too late, Arya thought to herself. Maybe she could make a run for it and hitchhike back to Stoney Sept. If Sansa refused to come with her, well, it had been nice knowing her sister and she felt sorry for the remainder of the group but there was no way she was getting on a raft with either one of those two lunatics.

Thoros tried to climb out of the raft but just as he was about to step onto shore, he teetered dangerously and almost pitched headfirst into the water. Beric reached out at the last second and caught hold of his arm and helped him safely back onto dry land.

He smiled sheepishly. “Whoops.” He handed his flask to Beric. “You wouldn’t mind holding onto my rum for a little while, would you?” The other man laughed and tucked the flask into his vest. Thoros grabbed hold of Beric’s hand and then Sansa’s. “All right, everyone. Join hands and form a big circle. It’s time to pray.”

Arya clasped Tommen’s free hand as well as Sansa’s. She supposed praying might be a really good idea right about now. She was sure it couldn’t hurt at any rate. Everyone in their group clasped hands while the other guides had their groups do the same.

Thoros’ voice rang out. “Oh Lord of Light, cast your light upon us. Show us the truth. If these people be worthy; give them the strength to survive the trip down the sacred gorge of the Blackwater. If they be unworthy, oh Lord, strike them down. Yours is the sun that warms our days. Amen.”

Arya was not one to criticize other people’s religious beliefs but that prayer didn’t really feel all that comforting. Of the two men, she determined that Thoros was the more intoxicated so she was determined to have Beric as her guide. Unfortunately, Sansa was selected by Thoros and Willas, Margaery, Joff and Mandon Moore all followed suit.

Since each raft only held six guests, Loras and Renly were then forced to take separate rafts. Renly chose to ride with Myrcella and Tommen along with Trystane, the Hound and Arya. She was pleased that she and Tommen were lucky enough to get the front seat. Tommen had been on the trip many times before and Arya finally decided she was acting like a big baby, if he could do it, so could she.

As they got underway, Beric had them practice following his rowing instructions until they were reasonably good at it. “All right boys and girls! The good times are just ahead. Here we go!” Beric shouted.

Arya realized they must have launched from really high up in the gorge where the ground was still relatively level. The river had been wide and deceptively calm. As it began to narrow, she could tell the difference right away. For one thing, the water was much rougher and the wind was roaring down through the gorge as if it were a wind tunnel. It became much harder to hear Beric and she began to get an idea of just how powerful the river actually was.

“Give me two, give me two and make them count!” Beric shouted. “Give me three, give me three! Get down, get down! Paddle up, paddle up! Alright, you can get up!” Water began crashing over the side and it was icy cold. They careened helplessly down the gorge and Arya decided they were only imagining they had control when in reality they were completely at the mercy of the river.

“Give me one, give me one more, brace yourself! Don’t fall out! Big splash! This is Tombstone!” Beric chuckled as they spun around and went faster and faster. “Blue Hole is up next!”

It was as if they were on the world’s most insane roller coaster. They flew through the air and bounced and spun as they got wetter and wetter. Arya tried to brace her feet but she could feel herself begin to rise up off the seat after a particularly bad bump. The Hound was sitting directly behind her and she felt his big hand push down on her shoulder to prevent her from going airborne. It angered her and she resolved to brace her feet better the next time.

“Right two, right two! Best Ledge coming up!” They flew over the rapid and then spun around and became wedged against the ledge sideways. The water poured into the raft until it was waist deep inside. “Right four, right four!” Beric shouted. They finally managed to break free of the suction after another raft bumped into them and they continued on down the relentless, rushing current. The river narrowed as they flew past the Olympic section and all the onlookers gathered on the rocks and sidewalks alongside the most intense rapids. Arya caught sight of a bit of color and recognized the row of international flags snapping in the wind.

The pedestrian bridge was up ahead. A raft overturned near them and people on shore were throwing ropes to the unfortunates that had been thrown out. There were dozens of kayaks and rafts that would periodically bump into each other. The rapids would turn the kayakers upside down and the water would keep them pinned down in place. The kayakers would then be forced to disengage themselves from their kayaks and then they would eventually pop up out of the water after Arya was certain they must have drowned.

Arya came up out of her seat again and again. The Hound reached forward and pushed her back down each time. Arya jerked her head around and pushed his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” She yelled to be heard over the roar.

“Give me two, give me two! Slam Dunk!” Beric called.

It was a slam dunk, alright. The raft spun and Arya flew out. She shot downstream in the agitating, rushing water. She was stunned and disorientated. She couldn’t see her raft. There were so many of them but none of them were close. Oh shit! Joffrey was right! She was a goner! She was going to float all the way down to Blackwater Bay and be hauled up in a fishing net!

Arya had the presence of mind to keep hold of her paddle but as she rushed towards two boulders that were nearly side by side her paddle got caught between them. She panicked and stood up. Her foot became wedged just as Thoros had predicted. She had been found unworthy and the Lord of Light was going to strike her down!

The water was pounding against her back and she realized she was lucky she wasn’t facing upstream or it would be pouring into her face. As it was, she was struggling to keep on her feet against the onslaught and fear welled up inside her chest. The fucking river was trying to kill her! Seven Fucking Hells! She was afraid to try and bend down to free her foot. What if the river held her down under the water like the kayaks and she couldn’t get back up? If only Jon was here! He would never have let this happen to her!

All of a sudden, Arya felt a bump and two strong arms encircled her waist from behind. “It’s alright, Girl! I have you!” The man’s body diverted the water away from her and she was able to look over her shoulder. It was the Hound.

He reached down with his long arm and untied her sneaker and freed her foot. The force of the water caused her to swing around against his chest. He grabbed her upper arms and she cried out. He pulled up one of her sleeves and some ugly green and yellow bruises were revealed.

“Girl!” He exclaimed. She looked up into his eyes and then turned her head. She’d had all she could take for one day. “Did Trant do that?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

“Oh Girl.” The Hound pulled her into his arms and Arya collapsed against his chest. He held her close until her panic subsided and she knew she was safe.

. . . . .

Apparently, Slam Dunk had been the last of the big rapids on the upper part of the river. It wasn’t very long afterwards when they reached calmer waters and a huge traffic jam of rafts and kayaks. Dozens upon dozens of people were gathered around barbeque grills having lunch. Arya saw Sansa on shore watching anxiously for her.

Sansa was already fussing. “What took you so long?”

Beric had Arya wait while everyone else got off the raft and then he gave her foot a cursory examination. “It appears as if it isn’t broken. Why don’t you try to stand and we’ll see if you can put your weight on it.” Beric helped her to her feet.

Sansa looked as if she was going to get onto the raft and Myrcella grabbed her arm to stop her.

“What happened?” Sansa yelled.

Arya waved her away “Relax, I’m fine.”

Sansa turned to Tommen. “What happened to my sister?”

Tommen found the front of his shirt clenched in Sansa’s fist. “Uh, we hit a little rough patch and Arya went for a swim.”

When Arya reached the shore Beric motioned for Renly and they picked Arya up between them and carried her a little ways and sat her on a large boulder. Beric went back to the raft for his first aid kit and Sansa squatted down beside her and looked at her foot. Her ankle was only slightly scraped.

“Oh my Gods, Arya! I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

Willas, Margaery, Loras and Joff showed up to stare at her along with everyone else. Sansa was even a little teary-eyed. Arya was about to die of embarrassment.

Margaery shook her head. “Oh, you poor thing. That freezing water must have been a terrible shock.”

Joff smiled. “I told you so.”

Arya looked around for a rock to throw at his head but Sansa was one step ahead of her and clasped Arya’s hands in her own. Beric returned with his first aid supplies and told everyone to stand back and give him some room to work.

As he was cleaning and disinfecting Arya’s scrapes, Thoros sauntered up with a hotdog in his hand. “What happened?” He asked between bites.

While everyone’s eyes from Sansa’s group were focused on Arya and were waiting to hear her story, Arya’s own group was trying to politely refrain from staring. They already knew she had fucked up. The only one of them that was looking at her was Clegane. He was standing a few feet away beside Mandon Moore and he was smirking at her. Arya fumed. Just a little while ago she had been feeling very grateful to that big idiot but now she wanted to throw a rock at his head too.

“Alright! I got thrown out of the raft and when I ran into trouble, I stood up and my foot got stuck.” Arya confessed.

A low murmur went around the two groups. Thoros nodded his head. “Yep, what did I tell you?” He looked down at Beric. “How is she?”

Beric stood up. “I think she’ll be fine. I think her foot might be a little sore but I don’t even think she sprained her ankle.” Then he told everyone to go and get lunch. Sansa wanted to stay with her sister but Beric convinced her to bring Arya a hamburger instead. Arya was pleased because she suddenly realized she was starved to death.

Thoros was still staring at her. “You’re lucky the Lord of Light thought you were worthy. I’m surprised you were able to escape without much damage.”

Arya chewed her lip. “I didn’t escape by myself.” She motioned to Clegane with her chin. “He helped me.”

Thoros turned to look. “Who?”

Clegane was standing over at the water’s edge, still talking with Moore. Arya pointed. “Sandor Clegane. He helped me.”

Beric picked up his first aid kit. “What’s your name, young lady?”

“Arya, Arya Stark.”

Beric and Thoros exchanged a look and then Beric studied the rest of her companions gathered around the grill. He turned to look back at Arya. “You’re not Eddard Stark’s daughter, are you?”

She nodded.

“Hmm, then it is only right that Clegane should look out for you.”

Arya wondered what in the hells that was supposed to mean.

Thoros seemed to sense her confusion. “Certain black dogs have always been meant to care for little wolves.”

Arya stared at him. The skin on her arms began to feel prickly. She saw she had goosebumps. What a strange thing to say. What was going on? Were they joking? She examined their expressions but they both looked deadly serious.

She felt very odd. Her eyes rested on Clegane again. He had taken off his shirt and was wringing the water from it. For some reason she had believed he was somewhat chunky like Blount and Meryn Trant but he wasn’t overweight at all. It must have been his body armor that had made her feel that way but she had been mistaken. There was not an ounce of fat on him. His shoulders were exceedingly wide, his arms were muscular and his chest was too. His waist was narrow and his stomach was flat. Oh, and his legs could only be described as . . . what was wrong with her? Did she hit her head and just didn’t remember it?

Clegane noticed she was watching him and quickly pulled his shirt back over his head. It was almost as if he wanted to hide himself from her. Her face softened and she nearly smiled. It was already too late. She couldn’t imagine why anyone as big and strong as him would feel self-conscious.

Beric and Thoros excused themselves and went over to the grill just as Sansa and Tommen came back to sit beside Arya. Eventually, everyone else joined them and Arya tore into her lunch as if she hadn’t had anything to eat for days. Tommen tried to cheer her up by telling her about the two times he’d taken involuntary swims in the gorge.

Beric and Thoros joined them again and let them know it wouldn’t be long until they would have to carry the rafts around the middle dam and put them back in downstream for the ride down the middle river.

Sansa sighed. “Arya, I want you to ride in our raft with me. I’m sure Loras wouldn’t mind taking your place in the other raft.”

Arya shook her head. “No, the Lord of Light already had his chance. I don’t plan on being struck down; at least not today.”

Thoros took a long drink from his flask and then he winked at Arya. “Don’t worry; I assure you that’s the last thing the Lord of Light wants.”

“All right, boys and girls! It’s last call for the restroom.” Beric nodded toward the facilities.

Arya saw that Clegane was alone and approached him. “Clegane?”

“Hmm?” He glanced down at her beside his elbow. She was studiously ignoring him. He decided she probably didn’t want anyone to know she was talking to him.

“I uh . . .” She started.

He waited patiently. He noted she was frowning as usual.

“If you see me about to go flying again . . .”

“I know, I know. You don’t want me to touch you. I got it.”

“No! I want you to grab me and hold me as tightly as you can!” Oh no! What had she just said? That came out all wrong! “What I mean is . . . I would appreciate it if you didn’t let me fall into the river again if at all possible.”

Sandor turned his head so she wouldn’t see his smile. After a moment he turned back to her. “So now you’re admitting you need my help?”

“What? No! That’s not . . .”

“Okay then. That rope that goes all the way around the outside of the raft is called the safety grab-line. Try to catch hold of it the next time you are about to fall overboard.”

“Fine! That’s exactly what I’ll do! I don’t need your help!”

“Calm down. I just want to make sure that the big bad wolf girl is really giving me permission to put my grubby paws on her.”

“Shut up! There’s nothing wrong with your hands. Don’t say things like that.” She glared at him angrily and then abruptly turned her back towards him and folded her arms.

Sandor’s breath caught in his throat. He was stunned. Was she trying to be funny? He was glad she’d turned away; he didn’t want her to see his reaction. “Girl?”

He was afraid she would stomp away so he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. Then he was afraid she would get mad at his touch so he made himself let her go. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to speak but he didn’t know what to say. They stood together in an embarrassing silence until Moore waved him over and he was forced to excuse himself.

Arya closed her eyes. What was wrong with her? She was angry at Beric and Thoros. Those two madmen must have put some crazy ideas into her head or something. She was not going to admit to herself or to anyone else how Clegane had made her feel when he'd held her so tightly out in the middle of the Blackwater.

Of course, the rest of the trip was uneventful and even enjoyable. When Beric deliberately overturned their raft in a calm section of the river and laughed his head off at them; they all laughed with him as they gently floated along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Blackwater Gorge is based on the Ocoee River Gorge in Tennessee. I didn't exaggerate, if anything, its even more thrilling than I was able to describe!


	7. Stoney Sept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

They all began kicking around ideas over breakfast the next morning about how they should spend the day. Renly wanted to go hiking in the Threepenny Wood National Forest. Loras and Joff decided they would accompany him. Although Trystane had been pretty angry with Joff, they seemed to be getting along again and he decided to go hiking with them. Arya wondered if Trystane had a secret plan to lose Joff in the woods and leave him to find his own way back.

Willas expressed his interest in doing some sightseeing in Stoney Sept. Of course, Sansa wanted to do whatever Willas wanted. Myrcella turned up her nose at spending the day with Joff and decided she’d rather spend the day in Stoney Sept as well. Arya was still a little unsettled from the rafting trip and thought a leisurely walk around the small village sounded like a good idea.

It wasn't until Arya was hurriedly taking a shower that she realized the ring she always wore around her neck was missing. She quickly got dressed and searched first the bathroom and then the bedroom. Once she came up empty-handed, she retraced her steps to the dining room table. She asked the kitchen staff and then the housekeeper if anyone had seen it. The housekeeper offered to help her search for it but Arya didn't want Sansa to find out she’d lost her ring. She would have had a fit.

After she had retraced her steps all around the house and the backyard, she sat down on a wooden bench underneath the veranda and hugged her knees to her chest. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her ring. She had a sinking feeling about the rough waters of the Blackwater Rush. She knew she shouldn’t have worn it in the river.

She found her way around the lodge and saw both the limos and a Range Rover parked outside the garage. She felt stupid when she couldn't tell one limo from the other and didn't know which one she'd ridden in the day before. No one was around so she tried the door of the nearest one. Surprisingly, it was unlocked.

Sandor had just pulled the Range Rover out of the garage. He had groaned when he'd found out he had to accompany Joff into the woods. He didn’t mind hiking but he did mind the company. He'd gone back inside the garage to get a rag so he could check the oil in the SUV. It had been sitting in the garage for who knew how long.

He was surprised when he noticed one of the limo doors was open. He walked over and looked into the interior. There was someone inside and it was most definitely a woman. She was wearing a black t-shirt and olive green shorts. He recognized her right away and then became thoroughly distracted. The Stark girl was bent over on her knees trying to grope underneath the seat. His eyes had quickly skimmed over the backs of her silky smooth thighs but had come to rest at the point where her shorts had ridden up and exposed the bottom half of her very fine, very firm derriere.

Arya became aware of a presence behind her. She glanced under her arm and saw Sandor Clegane. He had his hand on top of the open door and his eyes were somewhere entirely inappropriate. He had a pleased little smirk on his face. Arya blushed furiously as she quickly turned around and spoiled his view. “What are you doing?” She exclaimed.

Sandor flushed in embarrassment when he realized he’d been caught. He couldn’t believe he’d been so foolish. What was wrong with him, anyway? He had no business looking at her like that. Besides, she was liable to give him another violent tongue lashing. She’d probably only acted halfway decent the day before because she’d nearly drowned. She was most likely back to her old self today. She’d made no secret of what she’d thought of him before and would probably not hesitate to tell him all over again.

“I . . . er . . .” He stammered. “I didn’t recognize you.” He bit his lip. She was never going to believe that.

Arya would have laughed if she hadn’t been so embarrassed. “Well, that’s because you were staring at the wrong end. Next time try looking at my face! For future reference, it’s above my shoulders.”

Sandor put his hand on his chin and rubbed his stubble uncomfortably. He figured it might be best to change the subject. He mumbled, “Can I help you, Girl?”

She scooted forward on the rug until she was able to scramble out of the vehicle. It was a fact that most people were taller than she was but Clegane was entirely too tall. He intimidated her without even trying. It infuriated her. He probably grew that tall on purpose just so he could make everyone else feel insignificant. She had to tip her head back to look up at him. “I may have lost something in the car yesterday.” She admitted.

“Well, you’re searching the wrong car. You rode in that one.” He used his thumb to point at the other limo.

“Oh.” Arya left him to go to the other car. He followed behind her.

He extended his long arm and reached the door handle before her. “It’s already been cleaned. What did you lose?”

She frowned. “Oh no! You didn’t incinerate the garbage or something, did you?”

He opened the door and crawled inside. “Let me check around the seat first before we have to go sifting through the trash. Where were you seated yesterday?”

Arya pointed and then sat down in the open doorway. Sandor reached his hand between the seats.”What am I looking for, anyway?”

“Oh, it’s a ring threaded onto a long, gold chain.”

“Hmph, did your long-suffering boyfriend give it to you?”

She glanced over at him curiously but he was still trying to get his huge hands down behind the seat. “No, it was a gift from my father. I’ve been wearing it on a chain because it doesn’t fit any longer.”

He turned his head to look back at her. He studied her grey eyes. Ah, why had the stupid girl worn something so important while rafting on the Blackwater? He turned back and reached down between the seats again. She’d lost a ring given to her by her dead father. He remembered how devastated the whole family had been when Ned had fallen down the stairs and had broken his neck at the Red Keep. Well, he didn’t exactly remember the girl crying even though she was there when the body was discovered. She was a somber, tough little thing even back then.

She sighed. “I probably lost it in the river.”

He turned back to look at her again. “No, you didn’t. You still had it in the parking lot when we were getting ready to leave the river yesterday.”

Arya searched his eyes with renewed hope. “How do you know?”

“I saw it around your neck.” He answered without thinking. As soon as the words were out, he wanted to bite his tongue. He thought guiltily about how he'd noticed the ring nestled in the valley between her breasts.

Arya lifted her eyebrow and Sandor Clegane blushed. He quickly turned back to the seat. Arya didn’t know what to make of that exactly. If he had just happened to casually observe her and had noticed her jewelry, why was he embarrassed? She remembered when he was shirtless the day before and how she had a hard time keeping her eyes off him. Oh Gods! He couldn’t have known what she was thinking, could he? She hoped he wasn’t watching her in the parking lot because of what she’d said to him. Seven Hells! She didn’t mean anything by it. She just didn’t like him talking that way about himself. What must he think of her?

He interrupted her thoughts. “If I find your precious little ring, I think I should get some kind of reward, don’t you?”

Arya was so distracted she barely heard him. “Hmm? A reward?” She repeated.

He turned around to face her and sat down on the floor. “Yeah, I’d like a reward. How about some of your sister’s fudge brownies? I hear they’re pretty special.”

Arya’s brows knit together in confusion. “A brownie? Uh, okay.”

“Hold out your hand, Girl.”

“What?”

He reached out and took hold of one of her hands and turned it over. He used his other hand to drop something into her palm. He’d found her ring along with the chain. As she gazed at his triumphant grin, her vision suddenly blurred. Big, fat, stupid tears spilled out of her eyes. She was mortified.

Sandor was stunned. He didn’t know what to do. The gold wolf’s head ring appeared to be unharmed. “Uh, I know the chain is broken but it can be repaired.”

Arya tried to wipe her eyes with her forearm. Sandor finally remembered the Kleenex in the console and reached behind him and grabbed a handful and handed it to her. Arya wiped her face carefully and then mustered her courage. “It’s Nymeria. My father had a ring made for each of us with our wolf.” Her Northern grey eyes shone. “Thank you.” She then leaned forward and kissed Sandor right on his burned cheek. She then hopped out of the car and quickly ran away.

Sandor remained where he was for several minutes. He held his hand over the place where her lips had touched him. The Girl had shaken him to his core. No one had _ever_ dared touch him there. Not only had she touched him; she’d kissed him and she hadn’t even flinched.

. . . . .

Sandor pulled the limo up near the steps. Boris Blount exited the passenger door to open it for the group going into Stoney Sept. Sandor had decided he didn’t really want to traipse up a mountainside with Joff after all so he’d traded assignments with Mandon Moore. Of course, Moore didn’t want to go with Joff either so now he owed him a favor.

He adjusted his rearview mirror and caught sight of the laughing dark-haired Stark girl in the backseat. He told himself the trade had absolutely nothing to do with her. That would have been utterly ridiculous. He just really wanted to go sightseeing in the village. He loved crowds of tourists. Besides, he had always desperately wanted a Riverlands t-shirt with a picture of a trout on the front and now was his chance to get one. Okay, maybe none of that sounded very believable. Maybe he just thought that Stark girl needed looking after. After all, it was obvious she didn’t have a lick of sense.

They had parked at the foot of the slight hill that led up to the little stone sept the town was named after. There was a worn dirt pathway that they followed single-file up to the door. A vine covered a good portion of the ruin and was flowering profusely.

“Uh-oh.” Willas stopped to examine the vine. “I believe this is spellbind.”

Sansa stepped back. “Is it dangerous?”

Willas laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s not toxic like poison ivy or anything but it can be regarded as a warning in a way.”

Sansa leaned back in to sniff the abundant pale pink flowers. “A warning? Do you mean like an omen?”

Blount was still huffing his way up the hill but everyone else was gathered around Willas, listening intently. Sandor had just stuck his head inside the sept to make sure it was safe but turned to listen as well.

Willas looked at each of them in turn. He flung his arm wide and motioned to the vigorous vine, “Take heed, young maidens! For when the spellbind is in bloom, be sure to catch your groom. Take heed! Listen to thee! For the blossom and the bee may soon equal three!” Willas dropped his arm and grinned.

Margaery started to laugh. Sansa and Arya exchanged glances.

Finally, Tommen spoke up. “Huh? I don’t get it.”

Margaery put her hand on his shoulder and shook her head in mock seriousness. “It sounds like an old wives tale. I think it means since spring is when the unrestrained joy of life bursts forth, it may be best to go ahead and get married before your fair young maiden inevitably gets knocked up.”

Willas nodded in agreement.

“Uh, I don’t think so!” Sansa declared as she scrambled away from the spellbind as if it was a snake and she was about to be bitten.

Willas laughed. Tommen looked a little uncertain. Sandor moved out of the way as Myrcella walked towards the door. At the last second, she reached out and picked a flowering sprig of the spellbind and went inside the sept.

Arya stepped up next and reached out to pluck one of the mysterious pink blossoms when Sansa charged forward and slapped her hand away. Arya heard a noise and looked up beside the door at Clegane who had his hand over his mouth and was coughing suspiciously. She narrowed her eyes but it only made him cough and choke harder.

“Excuse me.” He finally managed.

Willas clapped Sandor on the back. “I say, are you alright, Clegane?”

Arya quickly ducked into the sept with her face aflame with embarrassment. She was pretty sure that stupid Clegane had been laughing at her.

After they had seen the bronze bells that had been rung in warning during Robert’s Rebellion, they examined the crumbling wooden statues of the Seven. Myrcella and Willas lit candles and offered up prayers while the others politely gave each other a little privacy in turns before they all went outdoors.

Tommen turned to Arya. “Did you want some more time alone in there?”

It took Arya a second to understand what he meant. “No, that’s alright, its fine.”

Sansa rolled her eyes at her sister. “Arya doesn’t follow the Faith of the Seven, Tommen. She follows the Old Gods. She’s a heathen.”

Arya bristled. “Oh, so you mean I’m a heathen just like Father?”

Sansa pursed her lips together but she didn’t have a comeback. Arya knew Sansa would never say anything against their father. If the Old Gods were good enough for him, they were good enough for her.

They walked the short distance to the market square. They paused at a fairy large fountain with a statue of a large dark copper trout leaping out of the water. Tommen removed some change from his pocket and insisted they all throw in a coin and make a wish. Most of them went ahead and did as he asked. Boris Blount took the coin but muttered something unintelligible and stuck the coin into his pocket instead.

As Myrcella led them away, Arya glanced over her shoulder at Clegane. He had lagged behind and was the only one left at the fountain. He held his clasped hands up to his chest and then threw his coin high up into the air. They both watched as it bounced off the trout and landed in the water. Arya had meant to turn away sooner before he caught her watching him but she was too late. His eyes met hers and they gazed at each other for a long moment. Someone finally walked between them and broke the spell. Arya flushed uncomfortably and ran to catch up with Tommen.

The group walked along slowly so they wouldn’t outpace Willas and his injured knee. Blount was in the lead followed by Myrcella as she chatted with Margaery. Sansa walked beside Willas as she held his arm and Arya and Tommen brought up the rear with Clegane behind them. Everywhere they went; little greenish copper bells were strung all around or hung from the shop doors. They tinkled softly in the breeze or as the doors were opened or closed. The group looked into the shop windows and stopped frequently to browse inside at the wide variety of specialty goods only found in a tourist trap.

Myrcella suggested they have lunch at the Copperhill Grill. The group sat together on the patio at a large table while the two bodyguards sat at a smaller table nearby. They had a nice view of the Blackwater Rush as it flowed calmly through the center of town. It would only start to rage once it was on its way through the gorge.

“This is really pretty country despite all the tourists.” Margaery commented.

Myrcella fixed the spellbind blossom that had begun to come loose from her barrette. “Believe it or not, this was an industrial wasteland up until about thirty years ago.”

Tommen picked up the story. “There was copper mining and sulfuric acid production here for a very long time before that. All the trees on the surrounding hills and the valley had been cut down to make bonfires for burning off the sulfur from the copper ore.

Before it was discovered that sulfur could be captured to be sold for industrial use, it was just released into the air and caused acid rain. It stopped the vegetation from growing and all the topsoil washed away. There are plenty of old pictures of the barren red clay landscape. Some say it rather looked like the planet Mars around here before the operations finally shut down.”

“Really? That’s so hard to believe.” Sansa murmured. “You can’t tell any of that now.”

“The mines and sulfur plant were sold and then shortly afterwards the new owner was forced by the government to perform a massive clean-up. They cleaned the streams as well as the Blackwater Rush and replanted thousands and thousands of trees before the costs associated with the clean-up bankrupted them.” Myrcella explained.

Their appetizer of fried mozzarella sticks and marinara sauce arrived. Margaery took one and blew on it. She nibbled on it delicately. “Ow! Too hot!” She set it down on her plate and wiped her hands on a napkin. “Did your grandfather have his lodge near here back then or was it built afterwards? I can’t imagine he would have liked being relatively close to all that.”

Tommen used his fingers to tear the long string of melted cheese that extended between his lips and the remainder of his own mozzarella stick and finished chewing the crispy, hot treat. “Oh, he didn’t mind. The plant and mines all originally belonged to Grandfather before he sold them to the new owner, of course.”

After lunch they visited a shop with handmade candles as well as a boutique full of scented soaps and lotions. They then dropped into a souvenir emporium crammed full of T-shirts, hats, mugs, keychains, toys and unnecessary trinkets of every description. Sandor snickered as he caught sight of a dark blue Riverlands shirt with a leaping trout.

Arya joined him and stood at his elbow. “Aw, come on. That must be the most attractive shirt I’ve ever seen. You really should get it.”

Sandor snorted. “Yeah, right. You have a cruel sense of humor, Girl.”

He looked down on her and she lifted her dark eyebrow playfully. “I’m serious. You’d be some pretty hot stuff with a shirt like that.”

“Okay. If that’s true, why don’t you buy it for yourself?”

She bit her lower lip while she thought for a moment and then she grinned. “Uh, its rugged outdoor charm would only work with a big, manly chest like yours.”

Sandor smiled in spite of himself. She was so full of crap.

She lifted the shirt off the rack. “Seriously, you would be irresistible. The ladies would fall at your feet.”

He took the shirt out of her hands and held it up across his chest. “Yeah, if they did fall at my feet it would be from laughing so hard they couldn’t catch their breath.”

Arya couldn’t help but notice how his chest dwarfed the shirt. She blinked rapidly. “Oh, that shirt is much too small for you.”

He hung the shirt back on the rack and sighed. “Yeah, I have to custom order most of my clothing.”

Arya spotted Tommen as he grinned and hurried to her side. “Oh, there you are.” He glanced up at Clegane and then back at Arya. Sandor stepped away and then pretended to examine some sunglasses on a circular carousel over in the next aisle while listening to their conversation.

“What’s up?” Tommen asked.

“Oh, nothing really. We just had a difference of opinion over this shirt. How do you feel about it?"

Tommen glanced at the shirt and made a horrible face. “Are you kidding? Ugh!”

Sandor watched as Arya smiled softly to herself. She brushed her hand gently over the fabric. “Oh, I don’t know. I think this would look mighty fine on the right person.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	8. I Should Have Known Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Everyone was on the back patio talking and having a good time after dinner. Trystane was telling them about the hike and they were still talking about the rafting trip too. Arya was getting a little tired of pretending that they weren’t getting on her nerves after teasing her time and time again about her impromptu swim.

She excused herself and went inside the lodge to pout when she noticed Joffrey sitting all alone at the bar. Her lip curled involuntarily. She hesitated before going into the game room. She sighed. She knew it was the perfect chance to ask him a few questions but she really would have rather avoided him. No one had said poking around in the hornet’s nest was going to be easy.

She went behind the bar and got herself some water and then she went around to the pool table closest to Joff. She put down her water and began to rack up the balls. “Would you care for a game?” She briefly glanced at him and then looked away.

“Sure, whatever.” He stood up and picked out a pool cue. They flipped a coin and Arya won. She made the break but didn’t sink any balls. Joff smiled unpleasantly and made a shot. He made the next two and then missed. Arya studied the table.

“I don’t even know what you’re doing here. I certainly didn’t invite you on this trip.” He said.

Arya glanced at him again. “Well, someone did. Maybe it was Tommen or Myrcella.”

He snorted. “It was probably my sister. It sounds like something she would do.”

Arya deliberately missed her shot. Joff smiled again. “You Starks don’t have much luck, do you?” He then proceeded to scratch.

Arya smirked and retrieved the cue ball and set up her shot. “I suppose we all can’t be appointed Chairman of the Board of our family’s business.”

“I’m Vice Chairman, not Chairman and I’ll have you know I earned it.”

She doubted it. Arya made her shot but was sure to miss the next one. No sense making him mad just yet.

“Mummy says it won’t be long before I can begin my career in politics.”

Arya shook her head while Joff was busy taking his shot. “Is that your goal; to become a politician?”

“Of course. First, I’ll become an MP and then it shouldn’t take long before I make Prime Minister. Naturally, I’ll have to wait until I’m a little older for that.”

Arya choked on her bottle of water. “Really?”

“Yes. Don’t pretend you’re not jealous. I know you Starks have always had political ambitions of your own.” Joff made his shot.

“What?”

“Yeah, you know what I’m talking about. Your father tried his best to take advantage of my father’s friendship and weasel his way into power.”

Joff missed his shot and Arya studied the table again. “I seem to remember your father begging my father to become his Hand.”

“That was before he knew how treacherous he was.”

Arya turned to Joff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

"Oh, please. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Arya slammed her shot home and then quickly sunk her next shot as well. "Why don’t you explain it to me?” Her eyes flashed.

Joff responded by throwing down his pool cue. He turned over his forearm and shoved it into her face. “You’re all treacherous. I still have the scar from where your vicious animal bit me!”

“I’m treacherous? You tried to cut me in half with your sword!” Arya stuck her chin in the air. “Nymeria had to protect me from _you!"_

“You all ganged up on me!” Joff shouted.

“No, you drew blood on my friend’s face and threatened him first!” She huffed. “You expected Mycah to fight you with a stick while you had a sword.”

“He didn’t know his place! He had no idea how to address his betters.”

“Oh, I suppose you thought you were his better? That sounds very politically correct. 'Know your place, I’m your better, vote for me.' Are you going to use that as your campaign slogan? I’m glad his dog bit you on the leg!”

“You are still just a stupid little cow, aren’t you?” Joff sneered. “You’re even too thick-headed to be afraid.”

“What am I supposed to be afraid of? You? I saw your fight with Trystane. You aren’t quite as much of a coward as you once were but you certainly still don’t know how to fight!”

“I can’t be bothered fighting someone as pathetic as you. Too bad Clegane saved you in the river. He should have let you drown. I’ll have to see to it that he’s punished for that.” He towered over her. “You Starks all try to pretend you are noble and honorable while you are really just wolves in sheep’s clothing. You are treasonous, back-stabbing liars.” He leaned forward. “Maybe you’ll just have a little accident like your precious papa.”

Arya’s anger flared. Was he threatening her? When she had initially selected her pool cue from the rack, she had noticed an old broken one. She retuned her cue to the wall and retrieved the broken one and spun it around experimentally. Since it had been snapped in half, it was the perfect size for her. She had plenty of martial arts training in staff fighting. Long sticks were more difficult because of her height but she could handle short sticks with the utmost proficiency. She could easily knock Joff’s teeth out with a flick of her wrist.

She may have told Sansa she had learned to fight for sport but it was possible she may have fibbed just a little. She may have also forgotten to mention she’d learned a lot more than just jui jitsu. If Joff kept talking, he might just find out more than he ever wanted to know about what a staff could do in the right hands.

“Whoa! Wow! That’s impressive!” Renly called out as he walked into the room. Arya immediately stopped twirling the pool cue and held it in the resting position. Renly joined them and then looked from one of them to the other and chose to focus on Joff. “Uh-oh. Don’t tell me you still haven’t learned your lesson.” Renly shook his head. “If I recall correctly, you let this girl beat you once before. From the looks of things, you might not want to challenge her again.”

Of course, Joffrey had been too stupid to realize he had been in any danger. He stamped his foot and narrowed his eyes. “This is what you get when you try to show a back-stabber some hospitality.” He sneered. “I hear the Northmen even eat their slain enemies on the battlefield. I wouldn’t doubt it.” He strode out of the room with his nose held high in the air.

Arya turned to Renly. “What did he mean by that?”

Renly chuckled. “I think it’s an old legend and a reference to Northern wolves.”

“No, not that. I’m familiar with that. I mean why did he call us back-stabbers?”

Renly sighed. He took the broken cue from her hands and hung it back up on the rack. He retrieved Joff’s cue from the floor and hung it up as well. He rubbed the back of his neck. Arya was determined to get an answer from him.

He gave her a sideways look. “You don’t know?”

Arya shook her head.

“After Robert succumbed to his injuries following his accident, things were rather in an uproar to put it mildly. I’m sure your father only meant to do the right thing but . . .”

“But what?”

Renly eyed her sympathetically. “It might have been better to wait and think things through a little more thoroughly.”

Arya waited. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.

Renly sighed again. “I don’t really feel it’s my place to say anything. Robert’s dead and gone. Your father is dead and gone.” He shrugged.

She pushed past Renly. Her father had done something wrong while believing he was doing the right thing; at least that was what Renly believed. He just didn’t want to come out and say it. Arya ran from the building. She didn’t want to see anyone. She’d had just about enough playing nice so she headed away from where everyone was gathered out back and went out onto the empty front porch.

She spotted Clegane as he was about to climb inside the black Range Rover. “Are you leaving?” She asked.

“Girl?”

“Where are you going?” She repeated.

“I’m going into Stoney Sept to pick up a few groceries.”

She made her way to the vehicle and reached for the door handle and climbed in.

Clegane stared through his open door at her.

“Come on! What are you waiting for?” She huffed.

He supposed it wouldn’t hurt anything if she went shopping with him. He wasn’t really planning on being gone all that long. He got behind the wheel against his better judgment. He could tell something was wrong. He closed his eyes. He knew she was trouble. He knew he should demand she get out of the vehicle and leave him the fuck alone but he also knew he wasn’t going to do any such thing. He started up the SUV and headed down the mountain.

“You look angry. Are you going to tell me what happened?” He asked after a few minutes.

She stared out the window at the passing scenery as if she wasn’t really seeing it. She didn’t even give him a flicker of a response. He knew she was upset about something so he tried not to take it personally. He glanced at her and noticed how her lips were compressed in anger. He couldn't care less if she ignored him and acted like he was invisible. It didn’t bother him. She wouldn’t be the first person to ignore him and she wouldn’t be the last. He wondered why he was trying so hard to convince himself he wasn't insulted.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Stoney Sept IGA and cut off the ignition. The Hells with her. He reached for the door handle.

“How can you work for them?” She asked.

He paused. “Ah, you’ve had a fight with Joff.”

She gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement. Knowing the both of them like he did, it was hard to decide who had started the argument. He made the mistake of looking into her eyes and was upset by his own reaction. She looked hurt. He had an urge to put his arms around her just like he did in the river. Thank the Gods she didn’t notice and opened her door before he did something extremely foolish.

He followed her inside the grocery store and she unhitched a cart. “What are you doing?” He scoffed. “We don’t need a cart.”

“I’m not lugging around a heavy basket.”

“No one asked you to.”

She jammed the cart back into the row of carts. “Fine.”

He picked up a basket and put the handles over his arm and pulled out his phone to check his list. The store was fairly small but there were quite a few people inside. A mother and a couple of children paused and stared at him as he passed by but he chose to ignore them.

Arya followed him into the produce aisle. “Plum tomatoes.” He read off the list.

They stopped before an assortment of tomatoes and looked at each other. “Plum tomatoes are roma tomatoes, aren’t they?” He murmured.

Arya shrugged her shoulders. “I think so.”

He raised his eyebrow. Arya pulled out her phone. “Hold your horses. I’m checking.” In the meantime he selected a couple of cloves of garlic and picked out a package of strawberries while Arya confirmed he had been right about the tomatoes and chose some ripe ones. “Is this enough?”

He nodded and they moved over to the fresh herbs. He held up a bunch of limp, slimy basil and made a face.

“You know they have dried basil in the spice section.” Arya informed him. He put the basil back down and they walked across the back of the store where the bakery was located and he crammed five baguettes into his little basket. She eyed the basket dubiously. “What else do you have on that list?” He held out his phone so she could read it. “Where are you going to put the soda?”

Sandor sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

Arya looked around until she found the spices. There was an older woman with a cart standing nearby. She had iron grey hair wrapped tightly into a bun. “Excuse me.” Arya said as she tried to reach onto the top shelf for the basil.

For the second time that day, Sandor admired the wolf girl’s green khaki shorts or rather the way they rode up and exposed her ass while she was standing on her tip toes.

Arya realized Clegane was behind her with a shopping cart but pretended she didn’t see him. “I sure wish there was a gloriously tall hero around here somewhere.” She muttered.

Sandor stepped forward and plucked the container of dried basil from the shelf and handed it to her.

“Oh, there you are.” She arched her eyebrow. “Thanks, Clegane.” He nodded as she continued, “About time you used your height for more than just menacing and intimidation.”

He looked down at her and searched her face. “I can change light bulbs without a stepladder.”

“Hmm, I _am_ impressed.”

“Anything else I can do for you?”

Arya looked him up and down and licked her lips. “Give me a minute. I’ll think of something.”

“Hey, Prince Charming.” They both turned to look at the old lady. “I don’t mean to interrupt but do you think could grab some of that celery salt for me?”

Next, they found the graham crackers and then Arya threw in a couple of boxes of brownie mix. Sandor stopped the cart in front of the packages of nuts. He reached out and removed a small package of walnuts from a hook but then he returned it and selected a couple of packages of black walnuts instead. He tossed them into the cart and gave her an almost friendly look. Arya didn’t say anything but she was pleased he remembered what she liked even though he’d been eavesdropping when he’d heard her say it.

They finished up with some lime juice and a couple of bottles of 7-up. Sandor started to head for the front of the store but Arya held him back. “I think you forgot something.”

He glanced at his phone and groaned. They found their way to the feminine products aisle. She let him suffer for a little while as he eyed the assortment of tampons. “Gods, Girl. Do you think you could help me out here a little?”

“Let me see your list again.”

He handed her his phone and then she handed it back to him and threw the correct box of tampons into the cart. “There. Now that wasn’t so bad was it?”

“They don’t pay me enough for this job.” He growled.

They were almost up front when Clegane handed the cart off to her and told her he’d be right back. Arya got in line at the self check-out. The grey-haired old woman got in line behind her. Just as a register became available, a blonde woman with 1990’s hairstyle came out of nowhere and zipped up and cut right in front of Arya.

“Excuse me. I’m next. The line is there.” Arya used her thumb to point behind the old woman.

“Oh, but you don’t mind if I go first, do you, sugar? I only have a couple of items.”

Arya gave the woman a look. “I believe it’s customary to ask permission _before_ you cut in line . . . _sugar_.”

The woman’s companion then rolled up to the register and joined her with a cart full of groceries. Arya pushed her cart up right behind them. “That’s more than a couple of items.”

A few seconds later Sandor joined them with two Popsicles in his hand. He could see the dangerous look on Arya’s face. “What’s going on?” He asked.

Arya jabbed her finger at the woman. “This lady here was just about to take her place at the end of the line.”

“Well I never!” The woman huffed.

An employee hurried over. “May I help you?”

The annoying blonde woman put on a distressed look. “These people are harassing me! I feel threatened!”

Arya banged her cart into the couple’s cart for emphasis. “You should feel threatened.”

“Please!” The employee exclaimed as she turned towards Arya. “There is no need for that. Why don’t you and your father come over this way and I will check you out.”

The old woman spoke up. “That not her father.” She looked over at Sandor speculatively. “Although, it wouldn’t surprise me if they both enjoy pretending all sorts of things.”

Everyone turned to look at Clegane and watched as he turned the brightest shade of crimson that Arya had ever seen. She _almost_ felt sorry for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	9. The Peach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

As they drove away from the IGA, Clegane spouted off a stream of rather shockingly filthy swear words. Arya tried really hard not to laugh but it was a losing battle. She laughed so hard tears streamed down her face. Sandor mashed his foot down on the accelerator and wasn’t paying as close attention to the road as he should have been. Someone stepped out in the street up ahead and he had to stomp on the brakes hard. The man turned to look at them in surprise and then he laughed and came up to Arya’s window. It was the red priest, Thoros. Apparently, the Lord of Light was watching over him and hadn’t wanted him to end his life beneath the wheels of the Range Rover.

“Where’s the fire?” He laughed again. “There are a lot of tourists around here. You might want to drive a little more cautiously unless your intention is to run them all down.”

Sandor grumbled underneath his breath.

“What’s wrong with him?” He asked Arya conversationally.

Arya smiled. “He’s fine. He just got accused of being a pervert by an old lady.” She couldn’t help herself and she started wheezing with laughter all over again.

Thoros started chuckling. “Well, I don’t know what to say, Clegane. How about I buy you a drink to take your mind off your troubles?”

“She accused me too.” Arya protested.

“Oh well, in that case; how about I buy the both of you a drink?”

Sandor scowled. “We have to get back.”

Arya turned to Clegane. “Hold on.” Then she turned back to Thoros. “Where do you suggest we go for a drink?”

“Why, the Peach of course.”

Arya’s eyes got wide. “The Peach! Isn’t that a brothel?”

“Hmm, I see you know your history, little lady, but sadly it isn’t a brothel any longer.” He sighed. “It’s just a regular old pub now although we have some young barmaids that dress up and play the part of the Peaches for the tourist trade.”

“We’d be delighted to join you, wouldn’t we Clegane?” She turned towards Sandor and placed her hand on his shoulder while she fluttered her eyelashes a couple of times in a ridiculous attempt at charm.

Thoros grinned. “Great, if you unlock the door, I’ll hop in and show you the way there.”

Sandor fumed. He popped the lock to the back door. He would let the wolf girl think she got her way with her pretty little tricks but he was going to teach her it wasn’t quite as easy to make an old dog roll over as she thought it was.

Arya had finished her grape Popsicle by the time they had reached the Peach on the east side of the market square. It was a plain white-washed building with a wooden shingle hanging from two chains. The sign was painted orange and was cut into the shape of a peach with a bite missing from it. After Clegane found a parking space, she handed him his Popsicle while she hurriedly answered a text from Sansa.

_Where are you?_

_I’m at the supermarket in Stoney Sept_

_Oh, hurry up with those daiquiri ingredients!_

_I’m surprised you missed me. Your concern for me is overwhelming. I love you too!_

Arya put her phone on silent. She wasn’t too worried if they had to go without having a daiquiri. Riverspring Lodge had enough alcohol squirreled away to withstand a six month siege. Well, maybe not quite that long with the way some of them were going at it.

When Thoros saw her reach for the door handle, he graciously opened the car door for her. Clegane was leaning against the front quarter panel of the Range Rover while he finished off his frozen treat. Apparently, Sansa and he had their priorities and she wasn’t very high on the list. At least Thoros cared. She gave him a genuine smile. She supposed she might have been a little hasty in her initial opinion of him. After all, he hadn’t let anyone die on the rafting trip and it wasn’t his fault he looked like a deranged woodchuck.

As Arya walked into the pub after the bright sunlight outside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. She scanned the room and the barkeep’s profile immediately caught her attention. He turned towards her and his face lit up.

“Arry!” He yelled as he rushed out from behind the bar. She met him halfway and he swept her off her feet and swung her around as if she weighed nothing.

Sandor walked in the door just in time to see a man come to a spinning halt with Arya in his arms and then he kissed her all over her face! What the fuck? He surged forward as the man gave her a final lingering kiss right on the lips. He wrenched Arya out of his grasp.

Arya was laughing. “It’s alright, Clegane. I’m not being attacked. This is a friend of mine.”

Sandor shoved Arya out of the way while he proceeded to bump chests with the interloping overly-friendly fucker. He realized he was a fairly muscular young man with dark hair and angry blue eyes. “Hey!” The kid squawked.

The remainder of the bar patrons decided to get involved and circled around the trio. “Gentlemen!” Thoros pushed through the circle and confronted the two men. “We’re all friends here.”

Arya took hold of the young man’s arm. “Yes. This is a good friend of mine; Gendry Waters. Gendry, this is Sandor Clegane.”

Gendry scoffed. “I know who he is. He used to come into the shop at King’s Landing.”

“What shop was that?” Clegane challenged.

“Tobho Mott’s. You know; all your body armor, firearms and custom tactical needs under one roof.”

“Hmm. I don’t remember you.”

“Well I remember you and I remember your brother too.” Gendry’s eyes narrowed. “I wish I could say you were both favored customers and a pleasure to work with but . . .” He made a face. “Tobho always said it was better not to get too friendly with some clients just so long as they paid their bills.”

Sandor’s jaw clenched in anger and Arya maneuvered herself between the two men. “Gendry, I’m so surprised to find you here! How in the world did you end up so far away from home?”

“I’ve been enjoying breathing the fresh mountain air!” He thumped his chest. “Oh, I forgot! Hot Pie’s here too. Hot Pie!” He bellowed.

A moment later a chubby kid came out from the back wearing a messy apron. When he saw Arya he grinned and picked her up and squeezed her in a massive hug. Sandor watched as she grimaced and then he remembered the bruises Meryn Trant had given her. He was upset with himself because he’d been too slow to react before the kid had already set her back down.

“Arry! What are you doing here?” Hot Pie turned to look at Gendry. “Did you invite her to come visit us?”

Arya answered for Gendry. “No, I just happened to be vacationing here and met Thoros who invited us here for a drink.”

“Hmm, that’s funny. That’s the exact same thing that happened to Gendry and me. We went rafting and met Thoros and here we are.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Arya nodded towards Sandor. “This is Sandor Clegane.”

Hot Pie appeared to notice Sandor for the first time. “Clegane!” He exclaimed as he took a step backwards.

“He’s alright.” Arya assured him.

“Uh, if you say so.” He eyed Sandor dubiously.

The kitchen door swung open and an older woman poked out her head. “Hot Pie! I hate to break up the reunion but the kitchen is about to go up in flames!”

“Oh my goodness! Thanks Tansy.” Hot Pie motioned to Arya. “Let’s go into the kitchen.” Arya and Gendry followed him leaving Sandor on his own.

“Come on, Clegane. I’ll buy you that drink now.” Thoros said as he led Sandor to the bar. Of course, no one was behind the counter. “Alyce!” Thoros yelled.

An overly made-up young woman wearing a medieval style dress appeared at the top of the stairs. Sandor remembered that the barmaids were supposed to be portraying the infamous “peaches” or courtesans that used to work at the former brothel.

She came bounding down the stairs. She had blonde hair and fair skin; lots and lots of fair skin. Her corset was cinched so tightly that her plentiful cleavage fairly spilled forth. The room suddenly fell silent as she jiggled her way down the stairs. Sandor flushed and looked away as he realized he wasn’t the only one staring. There were at least ten other men in the pub doing exactly the same.

“Yes, Thoros?” She gasped as she tried to catch her breath.

“Get this man something to drink.”

She turned to Sandor and her mouth fell open. “Oh!” Her eyes got big but she managed to control her face. Sandor appreciated the effort. Most women just looked at him with horror or turned away completely.

She hurried behind the bar and Sandor ordered a pint of Guinness. She put his drink before him and then continued to stare at him in awe. He began to wonder if she might be a few apples short of a barrel.

Thoros cleared his throat. “You can put his drink on my tab.”

“Oh, Thoros! Forgive me! I forgot about you.” Alyce scrambled for an extra tall glass and filled it with Captain Morgan’s Spiced Rum and placed it before Thoros and waited for his approval.

“Why, thank you, my dear.” He placed his boot on the bar’s foot rail, bent his knee and took a sip. He nodded to Alyce and smiled.

Alyce resumed her position across from Sandor and leaned forward across the bar to stare at him again giving him an even better view than he had before.

“It’s not too late for you, Clegane.” Thoros said as he tipped his glass in salute and took another sip.

“What?” Sandor glanced at the red priest and decided he was one mad fucker.

Arya and Gendry walked out of the kitchen and Gendry slid behind the bar. Arya went to sit on the barstool beside Clegane when her attention was immediately drawn to what could only be described as a trampy version of the country singer, Dolly Fucking Parton, smiling across the bar at him. What the fuck? The woman certainly had some world-class boobs. Was she one of the Peaches? Why was she looking at Clegane like that? Arya glanced down at her own chest. Shit!

She had yet to sit down when Gendry interrupted her thoughts. “Arry, what can I get you?”

“She’ll have some Glenfiddich 21 year old single malt Scotch.” Clegane answered for her. Then he turned his head towards her and his lips curved upwards into a teasing smile.

Arya sat down. She’d been joking about wanting whisky instead of water at the Red Keep but she was flattered he’d recalled her preference. Clegane continued to smile at her. She suddenly felt very warm. She wondered if it would do any good to prop open the door to cool down the place.

Gendry’s eyebrows shot up. “We don’t get much of a call for something as exclusive as that in here but I think we have some.” He turned to search the shelves behind him on the wall.

Thoros leaned forward to see around Clegane and caught Arya’s attention. “Uh, when I said I would buy you a drink, I uh, had in mind something a little more, shall we say, budget friendly?”

“I’m buying.” Clegane huffed. He glanced at her again and as her grey eyes met his he suddenly remembered he’d resolved only a short while ago to give her a hard time. He’d always enjoyed making her angry but now he wondered if he might enjoy pleasing her even more.

“Found it!” Gendry called. He brought the prize bottle of Scotch to the bar. “Excuse me, Alyce.” She stepped back reluctantly. Then he nodded toward a group of loud tourists that had just wandered in off the street, “Don’t you think you should see to the customers?”

She sniffed. “Where’s Bella? Isn’t she supposed to be here by now? How come she never gets in trouble for being late to work? It must really be nice to get _special_ treatment.” Then she tossed her hair over her shoulder and stalked away.

Arya noted how Gendry’s ears turned red. Hmm. While they were in the kitchen, he had told her he and Hot Pie had come to Stoney Sept nearly a month ago and had decided to stay because life in King’s Landing had been stifling. He wanted to be his own man; a free spirit in the great outdoors. Arya smiled at her old friend fondly. Why hadn’t he just said he’d found a girlfriend? It made a lot more sense than that other hogwash.

Arya had to admit that Glenfiddich 21 was by far the best Scotch she’d ever had. Oh course, she had to show off and drink it neat. She could feel the warm flush of the whisky coursing through her veins at top speed. She knew if she didn’t slow down and make her drink last, it was going to go straight to her head. It was funny but she had never learned to drink. Even Sansa could drink more than she could. It was embarrassing.

A beautiful tall girl rushed out of the kitchen. She had waist-length raven hair and eyes as blue as Gendry’s. Her cleavage wasn’t quite as spectacular as the other Peach but it was still pretty impressive. “Oh my Gods, Gendry!” She exclaimed as she hurried behind the bar and tied on an apron. “You will never guess what happened!” She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Beric -"

“Ah, Bella . . .” Gendry interrupted. “This is an old friend of mine, Arya Stark.”

She glanced at Arya briefly and then turned back to Gendry and tried to speak again but he cut her off again. “Also, this is . . .” He grimaced, “an acquaintance of hers, the _Hound_ , Sandor Clegane.”

Bella turned to look at them more closely and her mouth snapped shut. Arya could sense Clegane bristling at her side. Even though he was known throughout Westeros as the Hound, no one ever actually called him that to his face. He slammed his glass down on the bar.

“Thoros,” Arya began brightly, “according to ancient history, didn’t Robert Baratheon hide out in Stoney Sept? I seem to recall one of the places he hid was the Peach.”

“Yes, he did hide out here. If you are familiar with your own family history and Robert’s Rebellion, you know that Robert Baratheon had been betrothed to Lyanna Stark when Prince Rhaegar supposedly abducted her. This started one helluva chain of disastrous events. Robert hid here from the royalists while he, your family and their allies attempted to usurp King Aerys II."

“So, this is the actual place? It hasn’t been recreated for the tourists like the Peaches?" Arya looked around at the somewhat dilapidated pub. "After all, it was a very long time ago."

“Oh yes, it’s one and the same. I can’t believe the royalists couldn’t find Robert. Of course, the villagers were moving him from house to house but really, all they had to do was wait for him at the Peach. Robert had a real penchant for prostitutes and he would never have been able to keep away from the ladies for long!” He guffawed loudly as he motioned to the two startled remaining Peaches.

Shouting and laughter could be heard out on the street even before a group of boisterous men came spilling in through the door. Thoros hopped off his barstool long enough for them to kid around and shove each a bit before he made introductions.

“These are my compadres, Lem, Anguy, Morgan, Steve, Riddell and Gatins.” Clegane stood up and shook their hands and Arya followed his example. “This little lady is Arya Stark, the daughter of the late Lord Ned Stark and this gentleman is her . . . protector, Sandor Clegane.”

Clegane in particular seemed flustered after being introduced as Arya’s protector but Arya only smirked and enjoyed his discomfort. The men seemed delighted to meet them especially Anguy. He held Arya’s hand much longer than necessary and gave her an extra big smile.

Thoros continued. “I don’t know if you noticed but we do much more than just run the rapids. We have a little outdoor adventure enterprise too. Lem operates the aerial ziplines, Anguy; the archery, and Morgan takes the tourists horseback riding into the mountains. You should join us and have some fun.”

“We can't. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh no!” Gendry moaned.

“I’m sure I’ll be back next year.” She reassured them.

Thoros grinned. “Yep. The Blackwater gets in your blood.”

Arya laughed. “Or in my case, my lungs.” The men laughed politely but Gendry frowned. Something was niggling at the back of her mind and as soon as it came to her she opened her mouth without thinking. “Wait. The name of your company is BwB.”

Thoros’ eyes seemed to gleam. “That’s right. BwB Rafting and Outdoor Adventures.”

Arya hesitated. Clegane must have sensed something because she could hear him as he shuffled closer to her. The pub had grown very quiet as the men looked at her expectantly. She was sure she was letting her imagination run away with her. She laughed at herself. “But doesn’t BwB stand for the Brotherhood without Banners?”

The men all laughed and Arya was relieved. Thoros put his hand on her shoulder. “The Brotherhood without Banners? You mean that rogue band of merry men that protected the smallfolk during the War of the Five Kings? The ones who fought against the raiding parties of Lannister soldiers? The men who dispensed justice to those who would prey upon the innocent?”

Arya nodded.

Thoros removed his arm. “Never heard of them.” He chuckled. “Our little organization is called Believers without Boundaries.”

Clegane was now beside Arya’s shoulder. She tipped her head back and looked up at him. He shook his head slightly. Shit! She had the distinct feeling he was trying to warn her to shut up. She turned around to stare at Gendry and he suddenly became very busy drying glasses and putting them away.

Thoros ordered a round of beer for everyone and Alyce began bringing in some plates of food from the kitchen for the men as they sat down at some of the tables. Thoros invited them to sit with him and have dinner. While Clegane was reiterating that they needed to get back to the lodge and explaining that they had already eaten, Bella placed a pint of Guinness on the table in front of him and one for Arya too. Arya shrugged at Clegane and began to sip her stout. She murmured her thanks to their host as she watched the archer rack the balls at one of the pool tables.

The archer looked up and smiled at her again. A moment later he sauntered up to her table. “Could I interest you in a little game, Arya?”

Arya’s eyebrow shot up. She opened her mouth to refuse when Clegane interrupted her. “No, we’re leaving.”

Arya’s chin tipped into the air. She didn’t appreciate being told what to do. “I’d be delighted.”

Sandor watched in disbelief as Arya got up and walked slowly over to the pool table. He could have sworn she was deliberately swaying her hips much more than was necessary. She carefully chose a cue and when she leaned over the table to make the break he became aware that every man in the place stopped what they were doing to watch. Morgan’s fork was stopped in mid-air halfway to his mouth. Her and her damn olive green khaki shorts! Sandor swallowed. She couldn’t possibly be doing it on purpose.

Sandor tried his best to listen to what Thoros was saying but he kept getting distracted by Arya as she laughed and casually made a shot and then missed a shot. He had never noticed her being quite so friendly before. He’d always thought of her as being very serious. That stupid archer was clowning around showing off for her and she appeared to be eating it up. He glanced over at Gendry and he was frowning at them both.

Arya sashayed back over to their table and picked up her pint of Guinness and took a long drink. Sandor looked up at her from his seat. “Are you about finished?”

“Mmm.” She drained the glass. “Yeah. I’m losing.”

“You poor baby.”

Arya pursed her lips. How dare he talk to her that way? She turned around without another word and headed back to her game.

“Easy there, big man.” Thoros leaned in as if to speak confidentially. “You might want to be a bit more respectful. Not only that, most women don’t take to being told what to do. Try a little more finesse.”

What? Sandor couldn’t believe his ears. He opened his mouth to argue but could tell by Thoros’ grin it would only make things worse. He didn’t want the whole table discussing his business. He was halfway listening to some story that Lem was telling about some idiot that took it upon himself to charge through a breach with a flaming sword at some battle when he finally let himself glance back over at Arya. She had just finished another pint and she and that fool had started another game. He sat there silently fuming until she finally skipped back over to him.

“Guess what, Clegane? I’m winning this one!” She smiled sweetly.

The archer had followed her. “Here have another.” He passed her a glass of beer.

She set the glass on the table. “Thanks, but I think I might have had enough.”

“Why don’t you send your grumpy bodyguard away? I can drive you back to your place.”

She looked down at Clegane and she watched as he cracked his knuckles. Before he knew what was happening, Arya sat down on his lap. She linked her arms around his neck and he found he had put both of his arms around her waist.

She leaned in close and looked into his pretty brown eyes. “Oh, Clegane’s not my bodyguard. He’s my date. Isn’t that right, Clegane?”

“Mmm.” He answered noncommittally but she could feel how his grip had tightened following her words. He took a breath and then looked away. She frowned. She was suddenly sure she was making a fool out of herself. She had been mistaken. Why would he want someone like her to sit on his lap? How could he possibly like her; she was small and plain with a flat chest. He probably preferred someone like Alyce with blonde hair and great big boobs.

She tried to get up but he prevented it. The arm around her waist held her even more tightly than before. His other arm dropped from her waist to rest across both her thighs as his big hand splayed across her skin to keep her in place.

Sandor couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t let her see what she was doing to him. If she had any idea, she’d have been horrified and she’d run away. She was just a silly, young girl and she was only teasing him. She didn’t mean it. She couldn’t mean it. He knew he should let her go but he just couldn’t. Not yet.

It was pretty clear he actually wanted her on his lap after all but something was wrong. Did public displays of affection embarrass him? Did he think she was trying to make fun of him? She reached up and turned his face back towards her. His eyes shifted nervously and he couldn’t quite meet her gaze. She wasn’t sure what had upset him. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, “It’s alright, Sandor.”

“Arya!” Gendry yelled. She jerked her head up and saw that he was scowling down at her. "Can I see you in the kitchen for a minute?”

Sandor loosened his grip and Arya stood up. Gendry reached over and picked up her pint of Guinness from the table and started marching towards the kitchen. She didn’t know what else to do so she followed him. The first thing he did was to pour her beer down the sink. “I’m cutting off service to you. You’re drunk.”

Arya snorted. “You’re kidding! I’ve only had three drinks. I can’t be drunk.”

“You must be. How else can you explain what just happened?”

Arya blushed. Hot Pie looked up from the stove with concern. “Nothing happened.” She protested lamely.

“He’s the _Hound_! Are you insane? He’s one of the most dangerous men in Westeros. You were sitting on his lap and nuzzling his ear!”

Hot Pie’s mouth fell open and he dropped his metal spatula onto the grill where it made a very loud clatter before it bounced onto the floor and clattered some more.

Gendry started in on her. “You told me earlier in this very kitchen that you had only hitched a ride to the supermarket with him but there’s more to it that that, isn’t there?”

Arya felt like a naughty little girl. “You’re not my mother!”

The door opened and Gendry’s girlfriend, Bella, stepped into the room. Great! She wasn’t about to let him chastise her in front of some Peach! Arya turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

The archer had narrowed his eyes at Sandor but when Sandor stood up and angrily towered over him he had wisely decided to go back across the room and mind his own business. Sandor wanted to go into the kitchen and sling Arya over his shoulder and carry her away but he remembered Thoros’ advice and sat back down. She might not take very kindly to that.

What was wrong with him? Arya Stark was way too young for him. She was practically still a _girl_ ; a beautiful girl with cool grey eyes, pouty lips, silky thighs and a lovely pert ass. She was particularly dangerous because although she was smart she was way too reckless. He admired her determination but most of all, he admired her bravery. She had no problem looking him right in the face. He could never hope to deserve her. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe how badly he had wanted to turn his face into her neck when she’d held him in her arms and comforted him.

A moment or two later, Arya flew out of the kitchen and spoke to a man who pointed her towards the hallway. She looked mad. She stomped down the hallway to where Sandor assumed the restrooms were located.

Thoros nodded towards Arya’s retreating back and chuckled. “You’d best be careful, Clegane. That little lady is a dangerous person. Although, truth be told; I like dangerous people. How about you?”

After a couple of minutes, Arya heard the restroom door open and then a slight scuffling followed by silence. She hurried out of the stall and washed her hands quickly.

Sandor glared down into the frightened face of the archer. “I don’t know if you need glasses, can’t read or are just really, really stupid but that’s the ladies room. I’m certain you don’t have _any_ business in there.” Then Sandor gave the archer a friendly pat on the cheek which wasn’t quite so friendly.

Arya stepped outside the restroom door just in time to witness the pat and then Sandor released Anguy’s throat and the archer didn’t waste any time in taking his leave. She chose to ignore what she had just seen. “I’m ready to go now.”

Sandor followed Arya as she made a detour to Thoros’ table. “Thank you for your hospitality. It was nice meeting you but we really do need to get back.”

Thoros stood and shook her hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you as well, little lady. We will be taking a little expedition by horseback bright and early tomorrow morning to Hollow Hill if you’d like to come.”

“Hollow Hill?”

“The Brotherhood without Banner’s hideout.” He winked and gave her his biggest grin yet.

Arya’s eyes got huge. Sandor took hold of her elbow and gently guided her towards the exit. He could almost see the little wheels in her head spinning around.

“Meet us tomorrow at BwB Rafting, 7:30 a.m. if you want to join us, you’re all invited.” Thoros called to her just before Sandor pushed her out the door.

Sandor helped her into the Range Rover and leaned across her chest to buckle her in. She supposed she might be a little drunk. “You know you saved my life in the river the other day.”

He paused and looked down into her eyes before clicking the safety belt into place. “Hmm, I saved you from something else inside there as well.”

“Huh?” Arya scrunched up her nose. “Oh!” She grinned. “Anguy probably thought he could steal a kiss or something. He didn’t mean any harm.”

He continued to look at her. “That Anguy isn’t harmless.”

She gave him a short laugh.

“I’m serious, Girl.” Sandor frowned. “I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”

“That’s funny because you could probably throw him pretty far.”

“You know what I mean. He’s a slimeball and I don’t think he has any regard for your honor.”

“My honor?”

“Your virtue.”

She did laugh then. “My virtue? What makes you think I’m virtuous? For all you know, I could have had dozens and dozens of lovers.” Her chin tipped up defiantly.

Sandor leaned down until he was nose to nose with Arya. “Is that so?”

She blushed fiercely, “Well, no. Not really.”

Sandor studied her for a moment. “What about your _good_ friend, the barkeep, Gareth?”

Arya sat up straighter. “His name is Gendry and that’s none of your business!”

He nodded. “Ah, that’s what I thought.”

Arya was angry now. “Well, you have some nerve asking me a question like that! I’ve never known anyone as rude as you!”

Sandor laughed and straightened up outside the vehicle and rested his hand on top of the open door. “There are a lot of men worse than me, Girl.”

“I doubt it.” She huffed.

“Mmm.” He grunted. “How old are you, anyway?”

“I’m 22. How old are you?”

“Too old.”

She arched her eyebrow. “Too old for what?”

He shook his head and shut the car door. Seven Hells, she knew how to heat up his blood. Did she have any idea how tempting she was? He had to take a deep breath and wipe his sweaty palms on his shorts before he got back into the vehicle with her. He decided it would be safer to change the subject.

Sandor slid behind the wheel but didn’t start the engine right away. “I can’t believe I let you drag me in there. Believers without Boundaries, my arse.” He snorted. “They as much as admitted to us who they really are.”

“Hmm.” Arya figured the least said the better. It had been her idea to go to the Peach.

“Did you notice how your barkeep shut that girl up when she was about to say something in front of us about Beric that he didn’t want us to hear?”

Arya turned to look at him. “I noticed.” She admitted.

“I hope you don’t think you are going _anywhere_ near Hollow Hill tomorrow morning, Girl.”

Arya snorted. It was almost cute the way he still thought he could tell her what to do.

He looked through the windshield at the big orange peach as the sign swayed hypnotically on the gentle breeze. “Now that we were stupid enough to visit the BwB at their not-so-secret lair, I hope we don’t get put on some government watch list. The next thing you know, I’ll lose my security clearance as well as my job and then we’ll both get grounded and will never be allowed to fly again. You may be fine with traveling all over Westeros by train for the rest of your life but I’m not.”

“Yeah, well, we could always travel by horseback if nothing else.”

Sandor turned and glared at her.

“Let’s keep our fingers crossed.” Arya laughed weakly. Maybe Sandor was wrong and they weren’t actually the Brotherhood without Banners. Maybe they had only been joking. She couldn’t believe Gendry would really be _that_ stupid. Besides, how could they still exist after all these years?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and Kudos are always welcome!


	10. Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Sandor made sure he was up bright and early the next morning. He didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see the wolf girl as she did her meditative tai-chi exercise at sunrise. He waited for her on the veranda but when she didn’t appear before the sun had crested the far mountain he sighed and walked down the steps to sit on the long wooden bench beneath the porch. They were scheduled to leave later that morning. Maybe she had decided to sleep in for as long as she could before the trip.

He heard the door creak open above his head and then some footsteps on the stairs. “Oh, there you are.” Arya said as she rounded the end of the staircase and joined him. “I’ve brought you something.”

She held out a wrapped napkin and beamed. It was a couple of brownies.

“Thanks.” They were still warm and he took a bite. They were a little chewier than he had anticipated but he finished them.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. The black walnuts were good.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean? Didn’t you like them?”

“Shouldn’t you be doing your tai-chi?”

“Alright, I know they were a little overdone. Every time I checked on them though it seemed like they were still gooey so I kept letting them bake a little longer.”

Sandor smiled. “You made the brownies?”

“Well, yeah. Sansa’s not dressed yet and I wanted to make sure you got your reward before we have to leave.”

Sandor didn’t care how chewy the brownies were; she’d made them for _him_. “I enjoyed them very much, Girl.”

She sat down on the bench next to him and her shoulders slumped. “I didn’t mean to break off your teeth.”

He laughed. “Are you feeling a little under the weather this morning?”

She gave him a dirty look. “No, of course not. I’m fine. I only had a couple of drinks. I’m not that pathetic.” She glanced down at the throw pillow at the end of the bench and put it down on his lap and then lay down on it. She sighed. "I just have a slight headache, that's all. It's completely unrelated to drinking."

“Hmm, I understand.” He said as he brushed her hair back with his hand. She had closed her eyes so he took the opportunity to study her. She had such delicate features for such a hardheaded girl. He admired her perfectly heart-shaped face and glowing skin. Her pouty lips were very pretty too but her eyes were what really did it for him. He doubted she had any idea how much he loved it when her eyes flashed or she employed a dark eyebrow while giving him a certain look. He ran his fingers through her soft hair and continued to smooth the silky tresses that had fanned out on the pillow.

Sandor gently placed his other hand on her throat. Her skin was warm and supple. He stroked it with his thumb very softly. He could feel her pulse beneath his fingertips but she must have felt at ease with him because she lifted her chin a little to give him more access. He wanted to touch her so badly it made him ashamed.

She made him think about things that he hadn’t thought about for a long time. Things such as the dreams he’d once had for himself that were never going to come true. Gods, he was stupid. Just because a saucy girl sat on his lap and let him pet her hair didn’t mean anything. She was young and carefree and had her whole life ahead of her. Well, at least he hoped she did. He had been serious about her avoiding the Red Keep.

Arya had never been touched by any man as gently as Sandor was touching her. She had to admit she had been wrong about him. Although it was true he was scary when he was angry and she was sure he could be dangerous when he needed to be, that was just one part of him. She was a little ashamed that she had been so ready to believe the worst of him. After all, even though he’d teased her and made her mad he’d never really treated her badly. She cringed when she thought about how unfairly she’d treated him. She hoped he didn’t think she’d been trying to humiliate him at the Peach.

“Sandor?”

His hands stopped. “Hmm?”

“I want you to know that when I sat on your lap yesterday I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I wasn’t teasing you,” She paused. “Well, I was teasing you but in a nice way, not in a mean way.”

She was still lying perfectly content in his lap with her eyes closed. He was impressed by how nice she could be when she wanted. “I know that, Girl.”

“I mean, you didn’t seem all that comfortable with me on your lap. I wonder . . .” She paused again. “Was it because all those people were around?” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Maybe we could try it again with just you and me.”

He could tell from her little smirk that she was playing with him again. He knew it was a terrible idea to call her bluff. She was as unpredictable as hell. “Sure, hop on up.” He heard himself say.

She scrambled off the bench and stood before him before he had a chance to rethink his bravado. She leaned forward and put both her hands on his shoulders and he instinctively reached out to steady her as she climbed onto his lap. The only problem was she didn’t sit across his lap like she had the night before. She straddled him. It was so much more than he had bargained for. He had to hand it to her. She knew how to unnerve him.

“How’s that? I’m not too bony, am I?” Arya frowned. “Sansa says I’m bony.”

Sandor swallowed. “You’re not too bony.”

“Am I too heavy?”

“No.”

Arya noted that no one else was around and Sandor was still nervous. Did _she_ make him nervous? She decided to find out. She leaned forward and nuzzled his throat. “You smell nice. Is that cologne?”

“Um, it’s just body wash.” He began to get flustered. She was awfully close.

“I like it.”

This was definitely getting out of hand. Gods! He couldn’t even hold his own with a teasing young girl! What was wrong with him?

She reached out and placed her hands on his cheeks and he quickly grasped them and pulled them away. “Don’t.”

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” She asked with concern in her voice.

“No, I just . . . I just don’t like to be touched there.” She had touched his burn scar. Sometimes he actually forgot what he looked like.

“Maybe you should just tell me where you like to be touched, Sandor.”

He raised his eyes to hers in disbelief and let out a strangled laugh. “Hah, how are you going to touch me when I have both your hands?” He tried to joke. He couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful wolf spread across his lap. His heart was hammering so loud he was afraid she could hear it.

She quirked her eyebrow. “Like this.” She leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on his lips. She sat back and gave him a shy smile.

“What was that, wolf girl?” His eyes searched hers.

“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it before. It’s a new craze that’s been sweeping the nation. Everyone’s been doing it. It’s called kissing.”

He raised his eyebrow. “Hmm, is that right?”

“Uh-huh, would you like to give it a try? You never know, you might like it.”

Sandor frowned. She must be kidding. She was terribly young and brash. She couldn't possibly understand what she was doing. Obviously, she didn't know any better than to tempt a man like him but he didn’t quite know what he should do to put a stop to this insanity.

Arya waited but nothing happened. She was going to die! He didn’t want to kiss her! She pulled her hands out of his grasp and made a move to get up.

Sandor quickly clasped his arms around her and pulled her forward until his cheek was resting against hers and he spoke into her hair. “Hold on! Don't get all bent out of shape, Girl. It’s just that . . .” He didn’t finish. This whole thing was ridiculous. She was a Stark! Not only that, she was a lovely young girl and he was . . . he was nothing more than a . . . 

She squeezed her eyes closed. She was so embarrassed. Why was he prolonging her humiliation? She pulled away from him. "Don't do me any favors! You can spare me you pity." She wanted nothing more than to run away from him and hide before she embarrassed herself any further. “Forget I said anything! Why would I want to kiss a man like you, anyway?”

Despite what he’d been thinking just a moment ago, Sandor's face flushed bright red with anger. “What’s wrong with a man like me?”

Arya was taken aback. She stared at him in shock. He was much more sensitive than she'd understood. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him. “Nothing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Why would I have wanted to kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“But you just said . . .”

“Well, I didn’t mean it! I only said it because you hurt my feelings!”

Now it was Sandor’s turn to stare at her. “What?”

Arya took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” Just a few short days ago she had thought he was hateful and uncaring. Now she knew better. How had she ever believed for one second that he didn’t have feelings? Of course he had feelings. He was just very good at frightening people away before they realized it. “I’m afraid I owe you an apology for so many things I don’t know where to begin.” Her eyes clouded. “I don’t blame you for your poor opinion of me.”

She attempted to push backwards so she could climb off his lap but Sandor stopped her. “Where are you going?”

“I think we both can agree I’ve made enough of a fool out of myself for today. So . . .”

He laughed. “Oh, Girl; you really are extraordinarily clueless, aren’t you?”

Arya frowned. He didn’t need to laugh at her. “That’s not very . . .”

Sandor drew her close and kissed her before she could finish. As soon as his lips touched hers, nothing else mattered; nothing else mattered in the whole world except for Arya Stark and the way she made him feel.

He knew he had absolutely no business kissing her but he didn’t care. It didn’t help that she was so enticing and responsive. He had suddenly lost the ability to reason. He could not get enough of her. It was good, it was right. There was no way it could be wrong. Her hands slid around the back of his neck and she wound her fingers possessively into his hair. Her breasts were pressed firmly against his collarbone. He groaned as his body continued to betray his better judgment and his groin tightened in anticipation.

Sandor’s groan reverberated throughout her body. He had surprised her. She didn’t know what she had expected but she had not known it could be like this. Arya wanted more. She wanted more of everything but she was slightly overwhelmed. She pulled back for a moment to catch her breath. She could feel his heaving chest and see the desperate look in his dark eyes. It made her feel a little apprehensive but he seemed to sense her nervousness so that when he kissed her again it was with feathery-light kisses.

He murmured her name and traced her lips with his tongue until her defenses collapsed and her lips parted again as she allowed him to slip his tongue inside her once again. He grunted with pleasure as his kisses slowed and deepened. His strong arms enveloped her and made her feel safe and wanted. She responded in kind and slowed her caresses and began to kiss him more gently. 

The tenderness was what almost undid him. He hadn’t realized how much he craved it. He knew he should put a stop to what was happening but she was much too hard to resist. She was humming with satisfaction as she sweetly kissed him and slowly pleasured him over and over with her tongue and her lips as if she wanted nothing more than to take care of him and show him how much she desired him. Eventually, she stopped kissing him and just held him in her arms.

Neither one of them heard the door open and close from up above their heads. “Arya!” Sansa called from the veranda.

Arya’s eyes flew open and Sandor's head jerked up from her shoulder. Arya panicked and leapt off his lap and settled into a nearby chair. Sansa was already clomping down the stairs. When she made it to the bottom she happened to glance over and caught sight of Arya. She started towards her but Arya jumped up from the chair.

“What’s up?” Arya asked brightly. She walked past Sansa and headed back towards the staircase in an effort to lead her away from Sandor. She was afraid he looked entirely too flustered.

Sansa glanced over at Clegane. He was sitting on a bench. Not only was avoiding looking at her, he had a throw pillow over his lap and he was clutching it so tightly his knuckles appeared to be white. She quickly turned her head to look at her sister. She had the overwhelming feeling something was wrong; that she had interrupted something between Arya and Clegane that they were trying to hide. Arya had already nonchalantly started back up the stairs but paused to look at Sansa.

“What’s going on?” Sansa asked.

“Hmm?”

Sansa narrowed her eyes at Arya.

“We were just talking. If you must know, I brought Sandor a couple of brownies. I lost my wolf ring and he found it for me.”

Sansa turned back to look at Clegane again. Arya had not called him the Hound, Clegane or even the Lannister dog. She’d called him _Sandor_. He met her eyes briefly this time before he looked away again. Arya’s explanation sounded reasonable but something was off. Surely, there couldn’t be something going on between them. He was the _Hound_ for goodness sake. Arya had even been ranting about how horrible he was just a couple of days ago. It was true they had disappeared together the evening before but Arya had explained about her fight with Joff and how she’d wanted to get away. She’d also explained about bumping into Gendry. No, she had to be wrong about her suspicion. It was just too crazy.

She started up the stairs behind Arya. “I wish you’d never said anything to Willas about some filthy cave in the forest. I don’t see how we are going to have time to get there and back before we have to leave.”

Arya quickly looked over the banister at Sandor. He was looking right at her and he didn’t look happy. Sansa also took note of his displeasure.

“Nobody said _you_ have to join us, Sansa.” Arya grumbled.

Sandor wanted to throttle the wolf girl. The whole time she was _seducing_ him with brownies and kisses she knew she was planning to ride off into the woods with a band of highly questionable characters without any regard for her safety or anyone else’s. He should have known she would completely disregard common sense. As soon as he heard Arya and her sister enter the lodge, he raced up the steps and burst into the security quarters.

Mandon Moore looked up from his seat at the table where he was sipping a cup of coffee. “Ah, Clegane, you better find yourself something to eat. I’m sorry but you’re going to miss breakfast.”

Sandor knew he had to be careful he didn’t show how relieved he was. Moore’s words could only mean he would be joining Arya on her little outing. “What’s up?’ He asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and joined Moore at the table.

“You and Trant are escorting Tommen and some of the others on a trail ride in less than an hour.”

Sandor knew he had to complain. It would be suspicious if he didn’t. “What the fuck? I thought we were going home this morning.”

Moore laughed. “We are but the departure time has been pushed back a little for your group.”

“So, Trant and I get to stay behind to go horseback riding? Who decided you and Blount aren’t the ones who have to stay behind?”

Moore leaned back in his chair. “Remember when you were supposed to go hiking with Joff yesterday but decided you’d rather spend the day loafing around in Stoney Sept instead?”

“Yeah?”

Moore drained his cup and grinned. “Payback’s a bitch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About time! I bet no one thought they were ever going to kiss!


	11. Hollow Hill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

The stables were located on the other side of a row of pines behind BwB Rafting. Arya hadn’t realized the stables were there during her earlier visit to the facility. She noticed the aerial ziplines for the first time too. She could see glimpses of the stainless steel cables suspended through the tops of the trees. She studied them and a tall metal tower that was partially visible in the distance.

At first glance she was disappointed they wouldn’t have time to hurtle down the cables but then it occurred to her that if you fell out of a raft at least you had a pretty decent chance at survival. If you fell out of the safety harness while sailing through the air you were pretty well done for. She decided it was probably best to stick with riding horses. At least she knew how to do that really well.

Thoros greeted them just as Gendry walked out of the stable. Gendry gave Arya a hug and then attempted to apologize but she shook her head and quickly cut him off. Thoros seemed a bit quieter than usual. Arya wondered if he had a hangover. She was just beginning to feel better herself and she was certain she had consumed a lot less alcohol than he had.

Gendry gave Sansa a brief hug as well. “Where’s your sidekick?” She asked as she looked around.

“Hot Pie’s not going to be joining us. He’s not all that fond of horses.”

Sansa introduced Gendry to the rest of their group after Arya had neglected to do so and then he led them over to the corral. There was a nice selection of healthy-looking, sleek quarter horses. They obviously were well-cared for. Arya watched as Anguy finished saddling a bay mare with a white star on her forehead. He looked around cautiously to make sure Sandor’s back was turned before he ogled Arya appreciatively and gave her a wink.

Apparently, Tommen noticed and stepped a little closer to Arya and glared at the archer indignantly. “Come this way, Arya. I want to show you a pretty little palomino I saw near the gate.”

Of course, they wouldn’t be participating in this little adventure at all if it wasn’t for Tommen. Arya had innocently mentioned Thoros’ invitation after returning from the Peach. Then she had fluttered her eyelashes and sighed dramatically as she went on to explain just how much she missed the time she used to spend riding her family’s horses back home at Winterfell. Tommen had immediately declared that there was no reason they couldn’t spend a few more hours enjoying themselves on their vacation if no one else objected. Of course it was a piece of cake to get Willas on her side and he took care of convincing Sansa and Margaery.

So far, the only real problem was Sandor. She knew he was going to be annoyed but she seemed to have underestimated how angry he was actually going to be. At first she’d been happy when she saw him standing out near the limo and realized he was going with them but then he’d completely ignored her and had barely glanced her way. On the other hand, Meryn Trant looked her right in the eyes and sneered at her defiantly as he held the car door open for her. She’d been able to steer clear of him on the trip up to this point but apparently she still wasn’t his favorite person.

Arya’s thoughts were interrupted by Thoros. “Time to mount up, friends! I’m glad you all could join us this fine morning.”

Sansa was petting a gorgeous chestnut gelding with two white feet. The horse’s reddish color almost matched her hair. She turned her head and smiled at Thoros. “I’m a little confused. Were we supposed to stop at the rafting facility to pay first? There’s a closed sign on the door.”

He laughed. “Pay? No one is supposed to pay. Didn’t your sister explain that she’s my special guest and she could invite whomever she wished?”

Sansa looked a little surprised and glanced over at Arya. Arya shrugged. “Oh well, in that case, thank you very much.” Sansa murmured politely.

“Just how far is the cave?” Willas asked. “I tried to find the location on some maps and Google Earth but I couldn’t seem to spot it.”

Thoros snorted. “You’re not going to find it on any map, boy. It’s a hideout. That would kind of defeat the purpose, don’t you think?”

Gendry and Anguy brought out a sturdy mounting block and helped the ladies mount their horses. Tommen was a pretty good horseman and didn’t need any help and neither did Meryn Trant but Willas begrudgingly had to have assistance because of his injured knee. Sandor swung up on a tall midnight black Friesian stallion with a curly mane as if he had been born to ride. He was secretly pleased they had a horse that was built to accommodate his height and weight.

“I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this.” Margaery joked from the back of a pale red sorrel mare as they traveled single-file up the trail. “I could be sleeping right now but instead I’m going to some dark and mysterious cave first thing in the morning without a proper breakfast. I hope you’re happy.”

“Don’t look at me.” Sansa sniffed. “Willas is the one who insisted on going along with my idiotic sister.”

“Of course he did.” Margaery rolled her eyes at her older brother. “And you’re not idiotic, Arya.” She said apologetically.

Gendry spoke up. “Oh, breakfast is going to be provided at the cave.”

“Hmm, really?” Margaery brightened. “Will you have any gluten-free selections?”

Gendry frowned. “What’s that?”

Margaery sighed. “It’s okay. I don’t actually have celiac disease.”

“Seriously? Then why do you want to eat a gluten-free diet?” Arya asked as she turned to look over her shoulder at her.

Margaery blushed and shrugged her shoulders. “Everyone else is doing it?”

“Look on the bright side,” Tommen chimed in, “you get to ride back to King’s Landing with us instead of with Joff.”

“Now, now, Tommen, you know how much I hate being separated from your dear brother.” Margaery tried but she couldn’t quite manage to keep the little crooked smile off her face.

Tommen was right. What a relief! Arya thought to herself. It might be worth having Sandor angry with her just to avoid being stuck with Joffrey for hours on end. She glanced over at Sandor. He was still ignoring her. Gods! She was probably going to have to apologize _again_. He looked more imposing than ever on his tall, black horse but instead of being intimidated, she was actually quite appreciative of his long legs.

They rode on for about forty minutes. There were some swirling tendrils of fog that made it seem a little eerie. Willas silently pointed out some more lovebind entwined around a sapling. He spoke to Thoros up ahead of him. “If the hideout is so secret, how do you know where it is?”

“I saw it in a vision in the flames?” Thoros chuckled. “No, I’m kidding. It’s just kind of common knowledge around here.”

“So, is this the actual Brotherhood without Banners hideout or just a regular cave made up to impress the tourists?”

Thoros turned and looked over his shoulder at Willas. “I’ll let you be the judge of whether or not you are impressed.”

“Wait!” Tommen interjected. “The Brotherhood without Banners? No one told me we were going to their hideout! I thought we were just going to some random cave in the middle of nowhere.”

Sandor had an overwhelming urge to laugh. Apparently, Arya had forgotten to mention that little detail to Tommen. He was glad to know he wasn’t the only one she liked to leave in the dark.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Tommen. I thought I told you that.” Arya apologized sweetly. “I don’t really see what difference it makes.”

Tommen turned to stare at her. “You don’t?”

“No, all that vengeance against your family and stuff happened hundreds and hundreds of years ago. It couldn’t possibly be of any importance now.”

Sandor hoped she was right.

. . . . .

Eventually they came across a little stream and followed it. There was a delicious aroma of sausage in the air and they could hear the sound of voices from up ahead. They rode out of the trees and into a small clearing. There was a deep pool with a waterfall cascading from the bluff above it. Next to it was a large ring of stones containing a campfire that had burned down until only hot embers were all that remained. There were about fifteen people standing and talking or sitting on fallen logs as well as a large contingency of horses off to the edge of the clearing. A couple of men were tending to several cast iron dutch ovens and packets of aluminum foil positioned over the fire on a makeshift grill.

It wasn’t until she dismounted that Arya noticed the entrance to the cave. It was fairly narrow and mostly hidden with tree roots and vegetation. When Gendry had said breakfast was going to be provided Arya had assumed there might be a couple of cooks that gone on ahead of them to prepare it but then she realized that another group of tourists must have arrived before them. It was a little surprising that there had been an earlier group than theirs.

“Oh, the food smells divine! I’m starving!” Margaery exclaimed as a man wearing an odd, grimy yellow cloak helped her down from her horse. “Thank you.” She said to the man and then looked at him expectantly.

“Lem.”

“Thank you, Lem.”

Sandor eyed the group uneasily as his wariness increased. All of Thoros’ compadres from the Peach were present and if the rest of the group was supposed to be tourists it was a little strange that none of them were women or children. He hadn’t seriously believed anyone was in real danger or he most definitely would have put his foot down and overruled the trip but he had thought it was foolish to take any unnecessary chances. He had initially been relieved when he’d believed he’d only have to contend with Thoros, Gendry and Anguy as potential threats.

Arya glanced at Sandor and could tell he was tense. She looked around in an attempt to understand what was bothering him. Everyone there was laughing and joking and anxiously awaiting their breakfast. She hoped she wasn’t the one who was making him so uptight.

Thoros waved his arms. “Alright, everyone, it is nearly time to break our fast so gather around so we can thank the Lord of Light for our bounty. “R’hllor who gave us breath, we thank you. R’hllor who gave us sustenance, we thank you. R’hllor who gave us day, we thank you. R’hllor we thank you for our hearths and torches that keep the savage dark at bay.”

They all lined up and grabbed a paper plate. The dutch ovens were opened and something called Mountain Man Breakfast was served. As far as Arya could tell it consisted of sausage, hash browns, canned diced tomatoes with green chilies and scrambled eggs with Monterey Jack cheese melted on top.

Arya sat on one of the fallen logs beside Tommen and then there was a brief commotion when both Gendry and Anguy tried to sit on the other side of her at the same time. Fortunately, Gendry was a little quicker and shot Anguy a smug look following his victory. In response, Anguy just sat on the ground at her feet as he dug into his hearty meal.

Sansa was picking through her breakfast with a fork trying to eat around the things she didn’t like when she spotted Arya’s little entourage. She nudged Margaery to get her attention and then they both laughed. Arya scowled back at them.

After Sansa found out the wrapped aluminum foil packets contained fried apples with cinnamon and sugar, she hastily left her seat and hustled back over to the fire. Arya watched Sandor as he thoroughly peppered his food. “Are you having pepper with your breakfast or breakfast with your pepper?” Arya snickered.

Sandor stopped what he was doing and gave her a very unfriendly look. Then he resumed peppering while continuing to stare at with narrowed eyes. All three of Arya’s admirers decided to talk at once in an attempt to regain her attention. Arya frowned.

After about ten minutes, Thoros headed for the entrance to the cave. “Since there’s not enough room, we can only take about half of you at a time. We’re going to start with the first group. There is some archery set up for the rest of you to enjoy while you wait.”

Anguy and two other men began to set up some targets against the bluff. A couple of men remained to begin cleaning up after the meal and at least ten men followed Thoros into the cave. After a couple of minutes, Lem came back out again. “We have room for a few more. He pointed to Arya and Gendry. “Come on, you two.”

Arya and Gendry put down the bows they had been examining and started towards the entrance.

Lem spoke again. “You too.” He nodded towards Sandor.

Sandor paused. Nearly everyone was inside the cave except for Tommen, Sansa, the Tyrells and the five BwB employees as well as Meryn Trant. “Keep your eyes on Tommen.” He cautioned Trant.

The cave was pretty small for the amount of people who were packed inside. Even with a campfire and numerous torches, it was still fairly dark and hard to see. Arya positioned herself between Gendry and Sandor.

Thoros stood before the fire and grinned. His teeth gleamed in the firelight. “And now without further ado, we present to you a little rendition of the play; The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors.”

For the first time Arya noticed a dirty, dark-haired girl in raggedy clothes standing next to a young man. She wondered where she had come from. Had she been inside the cave the whole time?

“What is this place?” The young man intoned as the play began.

“Somewhere where neither wolves nor Lions come prowling.” Thoros answered.

Anguy appeared and pushed a man from back in the shadows forward into the light. The man was very big and bound with a rope tied around his chest. He was wearing some chain mail and beat up armor. He must have been waiting inside the cave too.

“You look like a bunch of swineherds.” The man sneered.

“Some of us were swineherds and tanners and masons; that was before.” Anguy snapped.

“You’re still swineherds and tanners and masons. Do you think that carrying a crooked spear makes you a soldier?”

Beric stepped out of the very darkest part of the cave. “No, fighting in a war makes you a soldier.”

Everyone went completely silent.

The big man looked surprised. “Beric Dondarrion? You’ve seen better days.”

“And I won’t see them again.”

The big man turned their way and they saw his face for the first time. He was made up to look burned, just like Sandor. Arya heard Sandor gasp and she slipped her hand in his.

The Brotherhood went on to accuse the man of all kinds of foul deeds which he angrily denied. Then they mentioned something about a tragedy that had happened at the Mummer’s Ford which Arya realized was a real event that had happened at the beginning of the War of the Five Kings.

“I wasn’t at the Mummer’s Ford. Dump your dead children at some other door!” The big man protested.

Thoros spat. “House Clegane was built upon dead children. I saw them lay Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys before the Iron Throne.”

Arya's hand flew to her mouth. They were calling the big, burned man Clegane! She tried to remember her history lessons. From what she could remember, the man who had killed Prince Rhaegar Targaryen’s children was the Mountain. His brother was the Hound. Oh shit! As far as she knew, no one knew the actual names of the Hound and the Mountain. They had never been recorded anywhere. Their names had been lost to history. Now the Brotherhood was saying their name was Clegane! It actually made a horrible kind of sense. Sandor was even known as the Hound and was Joffrey’s bodyguard just as the other, earlier Hound had been King Joffrey’s sworn shield long, long ago.

“Do you take me for my brother? Is being born a Clegane a crime?” The big man argued.

Anguy narrowed his eyes. “Murder is a crime.”

“I never touched the Targaryen babes. I never saw them. I never smelled them. I never heard them bawling. If you want to cut my throat, get on with it! But don’t call me a murderer and pretend that you’re not!”

Suddenly, the rough-looking girl exclaimed. “You murdered Mycah, the butcher’s boy, my friend. He was twelve years old, he was unarmed and you rode him down. You slung him over your horse like he was some deer.”

“Aye, he was a bleeder.”

Arya started to feel shaky at that point. The Brotherhood went on to sentence the big man to trial by combat on the girl’s accusation and let the Lord of Light decide the truth.

“So who will it be?” The big man questioned. “Should we find out if your fire god really loves you, priest? Or you archer; or are you worse with a sword in your hand? Or is the little girl the bravest one here?”

Beric turned to look over his should at the vengeful girl. “Aye, she might be. But it’s me you’ll fight.”

“Lord, cast your light upon us.” Thoros intoned.

Every single man in the cave except for the girl’s companion, Gendry and Sandor answered the prayer. “Lord of Light defend us.”

Thoros continued. “Show us the truth, strike this man down if he is guilty, give strength to his sword if he is true. Lord of Light give us wisdom, for the night is dark and full of terrors.”

“For the night is dark and full of terrors.” The Brotherhood repeated. For now it was obvious they were all members of the Brotherhood.

Thoros appeared to blood the blade of the sword on Beric’s hand and then Beric took the sword from him and ran his hand up the blade and it burst into flames. Sandor jerked backwards and just about jumped out of his skin.

Beric and the big man fought a well-choreographed duel while everyone chanted, “Guilty, guilty, guilty.” The big man killed Beric. Thoros jumped to his aid and began praying over him as the big man tried to put the fire out on his sleeve.

The girl grabbed a weapon and ran at the big man to kill him but her young man grabbed her and held her back. “Arya, don’t!” He yelled.

Arya wanted to be sick. She had finally realized who the girl was. She was supposed to be her namesake and the legendary savior of Westeros, the Bringer of Dawn. Some people believed the legend that she had slain the Night King and some people thought it was only a made-up story but there had never been anything written about her and the Hound. There was nothing written about her and a butcher’s boy named Mycah either. Yet . . . _she_ knew a boy by that name and so did _Sandor_.

“No, let go of me! Let me go!” The girl continued to scream.

The big man laughed. “Looks like the god loves me more than your butcher’s boy.”

“Burn in hell!” The girl continued to struggle to free herself.

Beric Dondarrion arose from the dead; resurrected. “He will, but not today.”

Arya had had enough. She darted between the men and fled from the cave. No one noticed when she ran into the trees. She paused to catch her breath when she was suddenly seized from behind. A man had grabbed her around the waist and nearly lifted her off her feet as he dragged her into the brush. He clamped his large hand across her mouth and spoke quietly next to her ear. “Shhh, calm down. Kick all you want, wolf girl. You can’t get away.”

She realized it was Sandor and collapsed into his arms. After a moment or two, he released her.

She quickly turned around and faced him. “Who said I wanted to get away?”

Sandor snatched her up into his arms and kissed her fiercely.


	12. Hugs and Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Arya had been working in the Hand of the King Tower for nearly a week. Lord Tywin’s library was a disaster. Sorting out the chaos would take a team of people at least a couple of years. Books, manuscripts and historic documents were just shoved haphazardly all over the place in no discernable order as far as she could tell.

Apparently, Tywin had finally decided it was time to do something about the problem and had applied for and received a small government grant to pay for what amounted to a massive overhaul. In reality, the grant would only cover a Maester of Library and Information Science and one assistant. Of course, he was rich enough to hire his own team but was thrifty enough to let the government foot the bill even if cataloging and creating an efficient access and retrieval system took from now until the end of time.

She’d found out from Varys on her first day that Sandor was away in Dorne with Myrcella and Tommen. Varys didn’t seem to know when he would return and Arya didn’t want to seem overly curious. The less anyone knew about her and Sandor, the better. So far, the only people she’d had any contact with was her boss, Maester Quinton, and of course Varys who had taken her to lunch a couple of times and Preston Greenfield, one of Sandor’s fellow guardsmen.

It had taken her less than a week to decide that preparing bibliographic records wasn’t really her thing but of course, she had to first examine the books before she could prepare a record and then she couldn’t seem to put them back down. Nearly all of Tywin’s interests, such as history and warfare, were her own interests and she had gotten reprimanded several times already for reading instead of working.

She had finally found what she thought was a good hiding place away from her eagle-eyed boss behind a marble bust of Grand Maester Samwell Tarly. The statue was one of several located in little dark recesses around the library. The location did make it difficult for her to see well enough to read but she’d solved that problem with a little penlight. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back against the heavy plinth supporting the bust. She had become thoroughly engrossed in an account of the warrior Queen Visenya Targaryen and her dragon, Vhagar, when someone cleared their throat behind her.

Arya quickly slammed the book shut and leapt up to her feet and turned around to see the great man himself, Tywin Lannister, staring at her with his arms crossed. Arya opened her mouth to speak and the penlight she’d had clamped between her teeth fell out and she had to fumble to catch it before she could slip it into her pocket. “Uh.” Her words failed her.

Lord Tywin looked down sternly on the petite, guilty-looking young woman. He noted she had very fine grey eyes hidden behind her spectacles. “May I ask what you were so avidly reading?”

Arya held up the book so he could see the title while she tried one of her charmingly girlish smiles that had not worked on anyone except for Tommen. His frown deepened. She should have known it wouldn’t work on Tywin. How had he snuck up on her without her hearing him? She glanced down at his feet. An involuntary giggle escaped her lips. She coughed a couple of times in an attempt to cover up that fact that she had laughed at his fuzzy yellow lion slippers which were adorned with some big googly eyes.

Tywin looked down at his feet then back at the young woman. “I’ll have you know these were a gift from my grandchildren.” He said with great dignity.

Arya nodded. “Oh, they’re very attractive and I’m sure they must keep your feet nice and warm.”

“Quite.” He tipped his nose into the air. “Now, come along with me to my office and you can explain how you have gained access to my inner sanctum. It is so difficult to find good security these days.”

He stalked away and Arya had no choice but to follow him. “I beg your pardon but I work here.” She protested.

He stopped at the door to his office and motioned for her to enter. “Do you mean to tell me I pay you to loll about reading my books?”

Arya grinned. “No, you don’t pay me, the taxpayers do. I’m the new assistant to Maester Quinton.”

A couple of hours later Tywin was still seated at his desk having a spirited debate with the impertinent yet knowledgeable young woman. They were arguing some of the finer points of strategy employed by the principle combatants during the War of the Five Kings. She had agreed with him that war was a ruthless business but she was incredibly obstinate about his assertion that Robb Stark had caused his own doom. No matter what he said, he couldn’t make her see reason.

There was a light knock on the door. “Oh, look at the time!” Tywin exclaimed. “That must be Preston Greenfield. Come in.”

The door opened and a man stepped inside. There was a brief silence before the man spoke. “Excuse me, Lord Tywin, its nearly time for Lady Tyrell to arrive from Highgarden.”

It wasn’t Greenfield, it was Sandor. Arya could tell from his voice. She hesitated to turn around in her seat. She irrationally hoped if she couldn’t see him, maybe he couldn’t see her.

“Thank you, Clegane.” Tywin rose from his desk and Arya stood as well. He came around and took hold of her hand. “I must say, I am happy to have found a young person who has better interests than pop culture and . . . and TikTok. I commend you for your solid understanding of our country’s past. I look forward to speaking with you again. Ms. uh, I believe I forgot to ask for your name.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. Arya glanced at Sandor. He had his big hands clenched together in front of him and he definitely wasn’t smiling. She turned back to Tywin. “I thought you knew. My name is Stark. Arya Stark.”

Lord Tywin eyes got big. “You’re kidding.”

Sandor piped up. “No, she’s not. That’s her, alright.”

. . . . .

“Seven Hells!” Sandor cursed as he heard someone pounding on his door as he stepped out of the shower. He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist. Whoever was banging away was certainly persistent. He stormed over to his front door and nearly ripped it off the hinges as he flung it open. The wolf girl was standing there in the hall wearing her sexy suit and holding a couple of bags of take out. He must have startled her because her mouth was hanging open.

Oh! Arya’s breath caught in her throat and her brain nearly short-circuited. Sandor was dripping wet and was dressed only in a towel that was hanging perilously low on his hips. It was like Sevenmas and her name-day all wrapped up into one beautiful package. She had a hard time forcing her eyes back up to his face. Then she wished she hadn’t. He didn’t look all that pleased to see her.

“What are you doing here?” He barked.

She gulped. “I’ve brought us dinner.”

His neighbors from across the hall stepped out of the elevator with some bags of groceries and couldn’t stop gawking at the two of them while they fumbled with their keys to their apartment. Arya turned and looked over her shoulder and gave them a friendly nod and then turned back to Sandor. They seemed to be taking a really long time to open their door. What were they staring at, anyway? Sandor growled. Just because they’d never seen a girl on his doorstep before didn’t mean anything! For all they knew, he was acquainted with dozens of beautiful girls! Or maybe they were staring because he was nearly naked.

He motioned to Arya. “Come in!” He stepped back to let her enter and then slammed the door in his neighbor’s faces. He turned to her and removed the bags from her hands and set them on the coffee table then he rounded on her. "Do you mind explaining what you were doing at the Red Keep?”

Well, technically she had been at the Tower of the Hand but she thought it best not to make him any more irate than he already appeared. “I'm working in Tywin’s library.”

He did a double take. “His library? You’re a librarian? I thought you were a history major.”

“I am but –“

“I thought we already went over this. Didn’t I explain that it’s not safe for you there?”

“I know what you said. I understand why you said it, too. It’s just that I have to do this.”

“Do what, exactly?”

Arya exhaled. She supposed she had to tell him. “I have to find out who is responsible for my father’s death.”

Her words caught him off guard. He studied her face. She was serious. Damn her. “How do you even know anyone was responsible? I thought it was ruled an accident.” He knew anything was possible as far as the Lannister’s and their shady associates were concerned but he really hoped she was mistaken.

Arya bit her lip and then the words came out in a rush. “I heard them. I heard my father come crashing down the stairs as I entered the foyer and then when I rushed into the room I saw him sprawled at the bottom of the steps. Immediately afterwards, I heard a gasp up on the landing and the sound of someone running away.”

Sandor finished for her. “Then the night watch recruiter followed you in and whisked you out of there.”

She nodded.

Sandor sat down on his black leather sectional and rubbed his forehead. “What are you doing here?” He asked more quietly.

“I told you, I brought us dinner.”

“How did you know where I live?”

Arya shrugged. “I have my ways.” Her chin rose defiantly.

“You followed me?”

“Well, yeah. Then I watched until your light came on and I saw you in the window. After that, I went to pick up the food.”

“Why would you do that?”

She gave him a small smile. “To butter you up? I knew you would be mad at me.”

“Why do you care what I think?”

Arya tilted her head as if she didn’t understand. “Why wouldn’t I care? No offense, but you’re pretty unpleasant when you’re angry.”

There was a long silence. Arya didn’t understand why he was so defensive.

“You never called me.” He finally said.

Arya’s mouth fell open. “What? What are you talking about?” She almost laughed. “How was I supposed to call you? Ask Tommen for your number?”

“Oh, so you exchanged numbers with Tommen?” He shot back.

“Well, yeah, but I haven’t spoken to him or anything. Once I found out you were in Dorne, I figured there was nothing left for me to do but wait until you came back. You never asked for my number. If you really wanted to get in contact with me, I suppose there was nothing stopping you from leaving a message with the concierge at Sansa’s building. I have my reasons for being unavailable on social media." She thought for a moment or two. “Am I missing something?”

Sandor sighed and put his head in his hands. “I slipped a little note with my number in your luggage when I placed it in the trunk of the limo.”

“What? Where did you put it? I never saw any note.” Then she remembered that she hadn’t unpacked her bag. Sansas had unpacked it for her. Sansa surely wouldn’t have removed it, would she? It must have fallen out or ended up in the wash or slipped beneath the lining of the bag or something. “Sandor, do you really think I would do something like that to you on purpose?”

He looked away. “I just thought I would put the ball in your court and give you the opportunity to . . . to think twice before you got involved with me.”

Arya studied the side of Sandor’s face, his longish hair, his muscles and long legs. She took off her suit jacket and threw it at his head. He turned in the nick of time and caught it. He stared at her in surprise. “You idiot! The only thing I need to think twice about is whether I should hug you or kiss you first. She stepped directly before him and put her hands on her hips as she eyed him with a little playful pout.

“What?”

“Are you telling me you don’t have a preference?” She pushed off one of her heels and then the other. “You’re just going to leave it up to me to decide?”

A slow smile spread across Sandor’s face and he raised his good eyebrow. “Why don’t you just surprise me?”

Arya stepped forward and leaned over him and put her hands on his shoulders. He looked so pleased she couldn’t resist brushing her lips against his. He steadied her as she climbed into his lap. Of course, he’d obligingly helped her push up her skirt in order for her to be able to spread her legs wide enough to straddle him. His eyes lingered on her toned thighs before returning to her face.

He glanced at her lips and then back up to her eyes. “You call that a kiss?”

“There was nothing wrong with that kiss!”

“If you say so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” Sandor teased.

“Are you trying to tell me I need some practice?”

He laughed. “Practice makes perfect.”

Arya licked her lips. She couldn’t wait to get her hands on all his near naked glory. She wouldn’t have minded getting a peek under that towel either. She let her hands slip down from his shoulders and ran them lightly over his chest. His dark chest hair was softer than she expected. She continued to caress him and smooth her hands over his rippling muscles. When she slid her hands down over his abdomen his lips parted and he made a little sound. She leaned in to kiss him as she rubbed her thumbs over his hardened nipples.

Sandor enjoyed the silky feel of her blouse beneath his hands. He liked how delicate and feminine it made her feel. Her hair had a spiced apple scent and it seemed to intoxicate his senses. He pulled her closer and kissed her more thoroughly. She caught hold of his tongue and suckled on it for a moment and the feeling went straight to his groin. He was exceedingly conscious of her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He longed to touch them but he was a little hesitant. He slowly slid his hand beneath one and then gently rubbed small little circles closer and closer to her nipple with his thumb. She made an appreciative little noise which Sandor took as permission to encapture the stiff peak between his thumb and forefinger and carefully squeezed.

Arya was being driven slowly insane! Did he think she was going to break? She pulled away from him and sat back and started to unbutton her blouse. Sandor removed his hand and watched her in awe. After she got it entirely unbuttoned and it was obvious she wanted to take it off, his brain kick started and he reached out and helped her slip her arms out of the sleeves. He stared at the purple satin and black lace push-up bra. He’d never seen anything like in person before.

“Do you wear things like that all the time?”

Arya laughed at his stunned expression. “No, but since I didn’t know when you’d get back I’ve had to be prepared.” Then she kissed him very sweetly.

She scared him very badly. It was hard to believe she was real. He was afraid he was going to wake up and he would find she had only been a dream. It was even harder to believe when she’d allowed him to remove her bra and let him flick and lave her tits with his tongue as well as kiss and suckle them.

She had her hands wrapped tightly around his head as she moaned and gasped. She was writhing very enthusiastically over his thighs. He reached down with one hand and grasped her waist to pull her forward over his towel. Oh, yes! That was much better. He thought to himself. She seemed to get the message as she slid back and forth against his manhood while gyrating and grinding on him. If only the stupid towel wasn’t in the way, he would be able to feel her better.

They went faster and faster and then she must have had the same thought because she reached down to work on untying the knot at his hip without slowing down. He had to hand it to her, she had great coordination. It took longer than he would have liked but she finally got the knot undone and then she must have done some kind of magic because she had the towel off him and tossed it over her shoulder.

She put her hand over the head of his cock and he heard her exclaim in shock but fortunately, she kept going. She massaged and fondled him until he couldn’t concentrate on her breasts any longer. He laid his head back against the sofa. She attacked his throat and licked and nipped and sucked at him while she continued to play around manipulating his rock hard member. He let go and surrendered to her as his chest heaved and he tried his best to suck in enough air. He never would have believed when he stepped off the plane this morning that he would be experiencing so much raw pleasure tonight.

“Come on, baby.” She whispered into his ear.

Of course, he did exactly as she asked and came for his beautiful wolf girl, Arya.


	13. For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

After Arya arrived back home that evening, she changed into her comfy cotton pajamas and surveyed her somewhat messy bedroom and carpet for any loose pieces of paper. She was searching for the note Sandor had said he had placed inside her luggage. Well, it wasn’t really a note. He had said it was just his phone number signed with his first initial.

Next she thoroughly checked her bag. After she came up empty, she got down onto the floor and lifted up the frilly bedskirt to check underneath the bed in case the note had somehow made its way there. She was staying in Sansa’s guest bedroom and of course Sansa had decorated it in pale blush pink and white. Naturally, Arya had complained about the ultra-feminine décor but she secretly did kind of enjoy how soft and comfortable her bedding was and how pampered the elegance made her feel when she first opened her eyes in the morning. She wasn’t about to ever admit it to her sister, though.

Her phone chimed with a text and she smiled to herself because she was sure it must be Sandor but she was a little disappointed to discover it was only Tommen. After he asked how she’d been, he informed her he’d been away in Dorne or he would have contacted her sooner. He asked her if she’d like to go sailing with him and his friends the next afternoon.

It was true she barely knew anyone in King’s Landing and it would be nice to make a few new friends. She also realized that befriending Tommen would be a good way to further worm her way into the Red Keep. The only problem was she suspected that he might have a little crush on her and she didn’t want to mislead him. She debated with herself for a moment or two before she finally told him she was sorry but she had other plans.

It was true, she had plans with Sandor and she had a feeling he wouldn’t like it if she started spending time with Tommen. Shit! She was also getting more worried about the missing note. She’d let Sansa unpack her bag because she was lazy and now she began to wonder if she really did take the note. If she had, it was probably in some silly misguided attempt to protect her.

It was probably best not to bring it up. She would just let Sansa believe she had saved her from Sandor’s inappropriate intentions. What Sansa didn’t realize was Arya had some pretty inappropriate intentions of her own as far as Sandor was concerned. Who was going to save Sandor from her?

She hadn’t even told Sansa she was working at the Red Keep. She had just told her she had gotten a position at a library. It wasn’t her fault if Sansa assumed she’d meant the public library. She knew her sister would probably find out the truth sooner or later but she would worry about that when the time came.

She did take some dirty clothes into the laundry room and made one last attempt to find the note by feeling around in the tiny wastebasket for clumps or mangled pieces of paper that may have gone through the washer. All she found was an abundance of lint.

“Arya!” Sansa called out to her as the front door slammed.

Arya walked out of the laundry room and watched as Sansa twirled around the living room. She was wearing a smashing blackless gauzy blue dress with embroidered gold accents that swirled around her as well as red-soled Christian Louboutin black stilettos.

She finally stopped after she made herself dizzy. “Oh, Arya! I’ve just come from a dinner party at the Red Keep! Margaery’s not even in town but I was invited anyway!”

Arya shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t understand what’s so special about that.”

Sansa laughed. “Don’t you see, Willas insisted he wanted me to attend. He arrived late this afternoon. He wasn’t scheduled to visit the Red Keep but he changed his plans at the last minute because he wanted to see me.”

“Oh, so he tagged along with his grandmother on the trip?”

Sansa stared at her. “How did you know?”

“Uh.” Arya wasn’t about to admit she’d heard of Lady Olenna’s impending arrival in Tywin’s office. “Uh, I just assumed she would be there. Everyone knows she and Lord Tywin are great frenemies.”

“Ha, you’re right about that. They spent most of the evening verbally sparring and it was pretty entertaining.” Sansa sat down on her cream velvet sofa and removed her spiky heels.

Arya sat in one of the matching chairs and covered herself with a finely woven Myrish cashmere throw. She never could understand how Sansa could wear shoes like that every single day.

“Oh, I forgot. We’ve been invited to go sailing tomorrow afternoon in Blackwater Bay and then go to a clambake.” Sansa said as she rubbed her feet.

Arya shook her head. “I’m sorry but I already have plans.”

“What?” Sansa frowned. “I didn’t realize you knew anyone here except for Gendry and Hot Pie and they’re still in Stoney Sept, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, but someone from work asked me to hang out.”

Sansa giggled. “Really? Would this person be a female co-worker or a male co-worker?”

“He’s all man.” Arya quirked her eyebrow and smiled.

“Oooh! Tell me all about him. What’s his name?”

Arya cleared her throat. “Um, why don’t you let me see how it goes first and I’ll tell you all about it later.”

. . . . .

Sandor came home from the barbershop late the next morning. After lunch and a nice cold bottle of beer he laid down to take a little nap. He was still slightly exhausted from his trip to the mountains and then to Dorne and back to King’s Landing. He had already washed his Range Rove Sport and had made sure his clothing was in order and had cleaned his best shoes. He had asked Arya to dinner at the exclusive Boar’s Head Inn. He’d had no problem with a last minute reservation. They were well-acquainted with him as security for the PM and did not dare to refuse him.

He might be a dog but he knew how ladies deserved to be treated. He wasn’t about to take Arya Stark to some second-class dining establishment. He closed his eyes and thought about how disappointed he’d been when she’d failed to call him while he was in Dorne. He remembered thinking about all the things he could have done differently and all the stupid things he had said in the mountains and all the chances he had lost. He had finally concluded that she’d come to her senses and he’d probably never see her again. He had been so shocked when he’d walked in and found her with Lord Tywin. Luckily, he had lots of experience keeping his face neutral and his thoughts to himself.

He smiled when he recalled how she’d cuddled against his chest and let him hold her last night. He would never admit how ridiculously pleased she’d made him. Now, if he could only get her away from the Red Keep and the Lannisters and into his bedroom; he’d be one _extremely_ happy man.

. . . . .

Arya had tried to tell Sandor that some casual dining down at the seafront would have been fine with her but he had insisted he wanted to take her somewhere nice. Good thing Sansa had already gone sailing or she would have definitely started asking questions once she saw how Arya was dressed. Arya smiled at her reflection. Sansa knew how to knock a man out with a dress and so far Arya had only knocked a man out with a fighting staff but she was going to give it her best shot to do it Sansa’s way tonight. She twirled around experimentally and her dress flared around her exposing her tanned and toned legs and accentuated her Jimmy Choo black satin, crystal-embellished sandals.

. . . . .

Arya had insisted on meeting Sandor at his apartment. He wasn’t happy with her decision but as soon as he opened his door and saw her he forgot to be annoyed. Her dark hair was swept up and her ears were adorned with delicate diamond studs. Her dress was black chiffon. A trace of silver embroidery drew subtle attention to her cleavage. The material clung to her trim waist before it billowed out slightly to just above her knees. To top it all off, he could have sworn she was wearing diamond-encrusted heels.

Sandor continued to stare at her until Arya became self-conscious. “What’s the matter?” She glanced down at herself. “Don’t I look nice enough to go to your fancy restaurant?”

Sandor couldn’t believe he was so stupid. He opened the door and motioned for her to come inside. He closed the door behind her and she turned around to face him, unsure of herself. He stepped very close to her and gently took her hands. “I’m sorry. You are so lovely. I think I must be dreaming.” He whispered.

Arya’s eyes traveled up his big expansive chest and then to his smoldering dark eyes. She had never seen any man wear a tuxedo as well as Sandor. She had never seen a man who looked as good as Sandor, period. She didn’t doubt for one second that he was the most gorgeous man alive.

Since it was Saturday night, the restaurant was rather noisy and crowded but Sandor had made sure they had a table for two in a quieter, more private corner. He could see people giving him looks but he resolved not to care. Even scarred, ugly men deserved to have a beautiful young woman on their arm once in their life.

Fortunately, Sandor knew his wines and chose a sweet and delicious Arbor Gold. Arya ordered Thon Basquaise; tuna steaks fried with olive oil and covered with sautéed onion, garlic, tomatoes and red bell peppers served over rice. Sandor ordered Poulet de Provencal; browned chicken breasts served with a sauce made from butter, chicken stock, shallots and cremini mushrooms and smothered with melted Provolone cheese and garnished with butter soaked croutons and crispy bacon bits.

Sandor questioned Arya over their salad. “I found your entire family on social media except for you.” He pointed his fork at her. “Do you care to explain? I thought young people loved social media.”

“You aren’t on social media, either.” Arya shot back.

Sandor took a sip of his wine. “Members of the Specialist Protection Guard are supposed to keep a low profile and are not allowed social media accounts.” He shook his head. “I like my privacy anyway so it doesn’t really matter to me.”

“I like my privacy too.”

Sandor just stared at her until she started to fidget. “Okay, I used to engage in social media.”

“And . . .”

Arya made a face. “And then I stopped.”

Sandor continued to eat while periodically shaking his head.

“Okay! I had some problems with a couple of _acquaintances_ when I was at school in Braavos. Are you happy, now? We just couldn’t see eye to eye and they decided to hassle me so I said fuck it.”

“Hmm, what are you planning to do when things get ugly at the Red Keep?”

“You’ll be happy to hear I was able to completely avoid Meryn Trant while you were away. He never gave me the slightest bit of trouble.”

Sandor rolled his eyes heavenwards and then looked at her pityingly. “That’s because Trant was in Dorne with me.”

“Oh.”

Arya changed the subject and asked Sandor about himself. He answered her questions until their entrée arrived. After a few minutes she spoke again. “What did you think of little play the Brotherhood put on for us?” She asked.

“It was a pretty unpleasant play if you ask me.”

“I didn’t like it, either. What do you think it meant?”

Sandor wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I’m not sure. I suppose they were trying to get under our skin for some reason. That’s not the first time I’ve been compared to the ‘Hound’ from long, long ago. I’m not going to let it bother me and you shouldn’t let it bother you. I don’t think it really meant anything, anyway.”

Arya had been about to take a sip of her wine but she placed it back on the table. “I’m not so sure about that, Sandor.” She rubbed her temples. “Did you know when I asked Sansa what she thought about the play she didn’t know what I was talking about? It seems her group didn’t get a play at all. Thoros just told them a story about the ghost of High Heart instead.”

After they finished their very satisfying meal and had made their way up front towards the exit, Arya suddenly excused herself to use the restroom. As Sandor waited near the dining room entryway, Tyrion Lannister walked in the front door and immediately noticed him.

“Ah, Clegane!” He called and waved to get his attention. Tyrion’s bodyguard stood behind him at a respectful distance.

Sandor frowned as he joined Tyrion. He seemed a little tipsy.

“Don’t tell me my sister is in there.” He motioned towards the dining room.

“No. She’d not here.” Sandor answered carefully.

“What about Joffrey? I can put up with him if I have to.”

“No, he’s not here, either. I’m not here in an official capacity. Sometimes I just want a bite to eat like everyone else.”

“Oh! That’s alright then, carry on!” Tyrion patted his arm and then seemed to get distracted by something. “Look.”

Sandor turned to look and Arya was standing uncertainly near the host’s station.

“Look, it’s the Stark girl and she’s all grown up!” Tyrion motioned for her to come over. Arya reluctantly joined the little group. “Oh my Gods! I can’t believe it. Where’s your sword?”

Arya smiled. “I couldn’t find a scabbard that matched my dress.”

“Oh, what a shame. I must say, you Stark women are certainly attractive.”

Arya bent at the waist and took Tyrion’s hand. “Thank you. Mr. Lannister. It was so nice seeing you but I have to take my leave now.”

“Fine, fine. I hope to see you again sometime, my dear.”

Arya nodded and went out the door as all three men watched her go.

“How odd. I hope she’s not by herself.” Tyrion frowned.

“I doubt it.” Sandor said as he looked down at Tyrion once again. “I have to be going now too. Goodnight, Mr. Lannister.”

“I hope you aren’t upset that I pretended I didn’t know you, Sandor.” Arya said as she buckled herself into his Range Rover.

He snorted. “No, of course not. You and I are none of the Lannister's business.”

“What about my family? Sansa might find out about us at some point. I think she took your note.”

“Let’s just worry about that later, alright?” He adjusted his rearview mirror to give himself time to pretend everything was fine. “Would you like to go have a drink or go dancing?”

Arya snorted. “No, I’ve had a long week and I’d just like to lay back and relax.”

Sandor turned to stare at her. “Does that mean you’d like me to take you home?”

Arya shook her head. “Uh-uh. That’s not what I meant at all.” She smirked.

Hot damn, hot damn, hot damn, Sandor was chanting in his head all the way back to his apartment. What did she mean by lay back and relax? Did she want to take a nap? Did she want to listen to some music? Did she want him to rub her feet?

As Sandor was unlocking the door to his apartment, his neighbors came out of theirs and paused for a moment as they gawked at him and Arya. They continued to look over their shoulders and stare as they walked down the hallway towards the elevator. Sandor put his arm around Arya’s waist and ushered her inside. He supposed they were only staring because of how they were dressed. They couldn’t be staring because they were so shocked that Sandor had finally gone on a date.

While Sandor was in the kitchen opening a bottle of wine, Arya examined a framed impressionistic print he had of some red sailboats at anchor. The red was striking but what she really liked was the reflections on the water and the light and shadows. She scrutinized a healthy houseplant with large, unusual split leaves. She wondered if it really belonged to him or some former girlfriend had left it behind.

She admired a few fancy seashells he had displayed on his bookcase and then she checked out his books. He had some crime fiction as well as some history and warfare titles that interested her. Sandor brought two wineglasses into the room and placed them on some coasters. She couldn’t believe how neatly he kept everything. Her brothers were complete slobs in comparison.

Arya sat down on the sofa while Sandor took off his suit jacket and joined her. “I want to thank you for an unbelievably good dinner, Sandor. I’m embarrassed about what I brought for you yesterday.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” He shrugged.

“It would have been better if we didn't have to reheat it in the microwave.”

“It’s not my fault if some sexy seductress made me forget all about dinner.” Sandor teased.

Arya started laughing. “Oh, really? Sexy seductress? Who’s a sexy seductress?”

“You! Don’t play coy with me.”

She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “I was fully dressed when I came here. You were the one parading around half naked in a towel. I think it’s obvious _you_ were trying to seduce _me_."

“Well, now you’ve done it. You’ve spilled the beans. It’s good to know you have a hard time resisting a man in a towel.”

“No, Sandor. It’s not just any man in a towel. It’s you.”

He kissed her very tenderly. He was going to have to be very careful he didn’t lose his head completely. He wouldn’t be of any help to her if he did. Someone was going to have to be there to stop her from doing something foolish or dangerous and to back her up when she needed it.

“Sandor, do you have something comfortable I could change into?”

At first he was surprised at her request and then he laughed. “Are you kidding me? What makes you think anything I own would fit you?”

“What about a t-shirt or something?”

He looked at her carefully to make sure she was really serious. “Alright, I’ll go see what I can find.”

Sandor left Arya on the sofa and walked down the short hallway to his bedroom. He flipped on the light and opened his closet door and reached for a new shirt he’d bought recently. He backed out of the closet and closed the door and was about startled out of his skin. Arya was standing right behind him. “Will this do?” He nearly stuttered.

Arya took the very large shirt from him and held it up over her chest. She looked down at the design on the front of the blue shirt. It was a Riverland’s leaping trout. She looked at him incredulously. “Sandor, you are going to be so sexy in this.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He opened up the closet door again, reached for something and then handed it to her. “I got one for you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter to be continued . . .


	14. Surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

“Oh, Sandor.” Arya breathed as she held the matching ugly blue Riverland’s t-shirts. She wondered when he had bought them. It was really quite amazing how she’d been so blind but he’d generously forgiven her. She was grateful he had. She was choked up and she wasn’t even embarrassed.

Sandor looked down into Arya’s shining eyes. No one had ever once looked at him like that before. He’d been with different women over the years, most of them not for long, but none of them had ever made him feel anything even close to how Arya made him feel. He knew he had never been in so deep. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close forever and whisper all sorts of foolish things into her ear but he had to get a grip on himself before he did something really stupid.

“Let’s put these on and see how we look, shall we?” She placed both shirts over one of her shoulders so she could free up her hands and then she reached for his bow tie.

Sandor leaned forward a little to make it easier for her to get to him and he caught a whiff of her intoxicating perfume. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and breathed in the scent. She reminded him of Sevenmas with the heady scent of vanilla, cinnamon and cedar trees. His eyes fluttered open when she pulled his tie from around his neck. She flicked her wrist and tossed it away without a second thought.

Arya began unbuttoning his pleated, crisp white dress shirt. It was funny that he’d never allowed anyone except for Arya to undress him before. He’d never been comfortable enough to give another woman the opportunity. He supposed it was because he’d never quite trusted their motives. He trusted Arya even if he didn’t understand her attraction to him. Although she seemed pretty damn smart on the surface; the jury was still out on whether or not she had much sense.

She bit her lip in concentration and Sandor didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more provocative. He couldn’t help licking his lips. Arya glanced up and caught him. She raised her eyebrow and grinned, exposing her fine white teeth. Sandor’s eyes widened. There had always been rumors that the Starks were a little different from other people. Of course, no one believed in the old superstitions any longer; they belonged to the past and a darker, more unsophisticated age. There was no way Arya was really a wolf masquerading as a beautiful young woman but either way he couldn’t deny how excited she made him.

Arya had managed to gently tug Sandor’s shirt free from his waistband and attempted to remove one of his cufflinks. She was getting frustrated. Stupid cufflinks! How was she supposed to know how they worked? She saw Sandor struggle to conceal his amusement as he kindly showed her how to grasp the back side of the ebony and gold jewelry and pinch it together so it could slip back out through the buttonhole. Arya managed to regain her temper and was finally able to free Sandor’s wrists. He slipped the shirt off and Arya took it from him and flung it onto the floor. She lifted her chin as if she was daring him to chastise her but by that time Sandor was smiling.

“I’m glad you think this is so funny, Sandor.” Arya huffed. “Here I am trying my best to help you get out of your clothes . . . I uh . . . I mean help you take your shirt off so you can change and you’re laughing at me.”

“You’re right, Girl. I’m sorry. I really appreciate your help.” He teased. “Aren’t you going to help me with my undershirt?”

Arya snorted and crossed her arms. “No, you can just take it off on your own.”

Sandor raised his eyebrow and then grasped his white cotton undershirt and pulled it over his head and pitched it across the room.

Arya’s mouth fell open. Sandor’s spectacular chest rendered her speechless. He seemed to brazenly bask in her admiration for a moment or two before he plucked his new Riverlands shirt from her shoulder and quickly put it on and deprived her of the pleasure of his topless glory.

Sandor held his arms out from his sides. “Well, what do you think?”

Arya pretended to fan herself. “Oh my! I was afraid this was going to happen.”

Sandor glanced down at his shirt. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

She took a step closer. “Your sexiness has overwhelmed me.” She put her hand to her forehead. “I think I might feel faint.”

“Ha ha. You’re hilarious.” Sandor smiled in spite of himself.

“Do you think it would be possible . . . no, it’s too much to ask.”

“What?”

“Do you think you might allow me to touch such a beautiful work of art?”

Sandor snorted. “I had no idea a leaping trout was so appealing to the ladies.” He stood up a little taller and puffed out his chest. “Well, if you insist, go ahead. You can touch if you want.”

Arya gave him her wolfish smile again. “Thank you. You are ever so generous.”

Before Sandor could come up with a reply, Arya had closed the distance between them and placed both of her palms on his abdomen and swept her hands upwards over the top of the soft cotton. Sandor gasped at how quickly she had moved and how her hands continued to teasingly caress his body.

She subtly kept advancing while he kept retreating until the backs of his legs bumped up against his bed. She grasped his upper arms and he allowed her to maneuver him onto the bed. He sat on the edge and enjoyed how she was making him feel. He knew she was only teasing but the way she was smiling made him feel special as if he really was someone to be admired.

She leaned down and whispered in his ear all breathily. “Oh, I just can’t get enough.”

He played along. “Do you really like my shirt that much?”

She brushed her lips against his. “It’s not the shirt that’s the work of art, Sandor. It’s only the frame.”

He opened his mouth to protest when she put her finger to his lips and shushed him. “Haven’t you ever heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder?”

He swallowed hard. He could have sworn she meant what she was saying.

“Now why don’t you lay back and let me take care of you.”

Sandor nodded and did as she asked. He opened his legs and she stood between them as she leaned forward over him and lightly massaged his chest. She lightly thumbed his nipples and then used her thumbs to go lower and lower and lower over his abs until she was teasing his belly button. Sandor’s breath was being expelled in short, excited bursts. He groaned involuntarily. What was she doing to him? What had he ever done to deserve such care and devotion from someone as warm and lovely as the wolf girl?

“Would you mind moving back just a little to give me more room?” Arya murmured. He opened his eyes and scooted further onto the bed. He reached out to help her as she lifted her skirt a little and climbed on top of him. As she straddled his groin he reached his hands underneath her dress and caressed her thighs and sighed with pleasure. She was so soft and as light as a feather.

She pushed up his shirt and played with his chest hair and alternated between carefully raking her nails up and down his sides and belly until he couldn’t take it any longer. He reached for her shoulders and pulled her down to his mouth. His hands made their way to her thighs again and he slowly maneuvered her backwards and forwards over his straining member. Arya sat up. Her hair was coming loose from its pins and she grinned as she bucked back and forth experimentally.

“Do you like that?”

Sandor laughed. “Oh Gods, Girl. You have no idea!” Then he was crestfallen when she climbed off him and then off the bed. Oh no! Either he’d done something wrong or she’d come to her senses! It was the worst timing ever for her to finally realize he was all wrong for her. It wasn’t fair! He squeezed his eyes closed in defeat.

He heard a noise and opened his eyes only to discover she was taking off her shoes. Yes! He shouted to himself. Then she pulled her dress over her head in a flash. She really was magic. She had turned into the hottest, curviest thing he’d ever seen! She was wearing the tiniest little red satin thong and matching plunging red bra. Her body was sleek and finely tuned. When she reached for his belt he couldn’t help how his body arched upwards to meet her halfway.

“Down, boy!” She laughed. Then she must have remembered his shoes because she knelt down on the floor and swiftly removed them as well as his socks. The sight of her kneeling like that made him grasp hold of the sheets so he wouldn’t sit up and make a mistake and ruin everything. Obviously, she was more comfortable doing things her way and he was not going to be foolish enough to try to discourage her. Besides, he was perfectly fine with the direction this was going.

Arya stood back up and tackled his belt and his zipper. As she carefully stretched his slacks over his very prominent bulge she got a little nervous. She quailed when he was finally lying naked before her. She glanced up at Sandor’s face.

He could plainly see her misgivings. “It’s alright, Arya. Just touch me, that’s good enough for now.”

She nodded and removed her bra and thong. She climbed back on top of him and took him in her hand. He put his hand over hers and helped her to find the right rhythm. After a couple of minutes he looked at her pleadingly. “Could you, I mean would you just . . ." He pulled her forward until she was sitting on top of his groin. “Ohhh, yes! Could you just move a little and simulate some action? I mean would you mind pretending?”

Arya lined her slick labia with his engorged shaft and rolled her hips forwards and back very carefully. Sandor put his massive hands on her waist and helped her along. It wasn’t until his thumb found its way to her clit that Arya was able to stop being so careful and get into the spirit of the thing. Oh, she liked this just fine! She slid backwards and forwards and gyrated and ground herself against him more and more wildly.

Sandor opened his eyes and watched as Arya’s tits bounced and jiggled and delighted as her sweet juices covered him. He slid his finger against her opening but when he tried to go further he realized she was extremely tight. He eased off a bit but Arya reached down and placed his finger back to where it had been. He managed to get it in a little ways when she surged forward and her body swallowed it whole. Arya lost it then and it didn’t take Sandor very long either. Arya keened louder and louder and clenched down tightly and wailed at the top of her lungs. Sandor shouted and shuddered and as he began to come he pushed her backwards off his cock.

She swiftly climbed off and watched in fascination. It was only when she handed him his boxers so he could wipe his hands that he noticed the blood.

His eyes snapped to her grey ones. “Arya! I’ve hurt you!”

She bit her lip. “Not exactly.”

“What?”

She looked away. “It’s fine, really.” She started to get up but he grabbed hold of her.

“Arya?” He tipped her chin up so he could look at her.

“This is a bit embarrassing, Sandor.”

“Is it your period?”

“Nooo.”

Sandor leapt out of the bed stark naked and stared down at her. “Arya, are you a . . . a maiden?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.” She sighed.


	15. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Arya had covered herself with Sandor’s comforter while he paced back and force across the bedroom a couple of times before he realized he was naked. He reached into one of the drawers in his bureau and quickly dressed himself in a pair of black boxers. He continued his pacing a few more times before he paused directly in front of her.

“I don’t understand. I thought you told me you and your _friend_ from the Peach had been quite close at one point.”

“No, Gendry and I had been close but not _that_ close. You just assumed we were a lot closer than we were.”

“So it’s true. You really were a maiden until . . . how could you? How could you do this to me?” He finally sputtered.

Arya’s eyebrows shot up. “To you? I believe _you_ did it to _me_.”

Sandor scowled. “You know what I mean! You should have warned me! What were you thinking, Girl?”

Arya shrugged. “To tell the truth, I didn’t even know it was possible for it to happen like that. It’s not my fault you have abnormally large fingers.”

He had resumed pacing but stopped in his tracks. “Abnormal?”

“Yes! I hate to break it to you but most men don’t have fingers nearly as big as yours.”

He glanced down at his hands as if he were seeing them for the first time. He looked at her with narrowed eyes. “So, you’re saying this was all some kind of accident and you would have told me you were a maiden if we’d been about to go all the way?”

“Do you think you could hand me my shirt?” Arya pointed to it on the floor.

Sandor scooped it up and gave it to her.

“Thanks.” She put it on and then took the pins from her hair and smoothed her tousled, dark tresses with her hands.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about. I’m twenty-two years old, not sixteen. I know my own mind and I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

“But that’s just it. You made a decision that didn’t include me. You have the right to decide whether or not you want to lose your virginity but I have a right to decide whether or not I want to take it. Since you didn’t see fit to inform me about what I was dealing with, I wasn’t careful enough and now I’ve taken something very precious from you without your meaning to give it to me.”

“Why are you really so upset?” Arya shot back. “Is it because you’ve accidentally taken my maidenhead or that I didn’t tell you the truth and give you a chance to run away before we ever got this far?”

Sandor flushed with shame. It was true. If he had known from the beginning, he would have never gotten involved with her. Frankly, he would have been scared to death. So if she suspected she couldn’t trust him, what was she doing here? “You listen to me, Girl! Don’t you ever sell yourself short again! Don’t you _ever_ try to be with a man that you can’t trust! You should only be with a good man that believes the sun rises and sets on you and is willing to do whatever it takes to take care of you.”

Arya stared at him and then her lip began to tremble. She had been a terrible fool. Just because she believed the sun rose and set on Sandor didn’t mean he thought the same about her. She nodded and then attempted to get out of the opposite side of the bed. She was going home and she never wanted to see Sandor Clegane again.

Sandor dove across the bed and threw his arms around her. “Arya! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have chosen my words more carefully. Let me start over.”

“No, you’ve said enough. You’re right. I’m going to do just what you say. I’m not going to settle for someone like you.”

Sandor sucked in his breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Arya kept her head turned away and refused to look at him. Her mouth was set in a hard, firm line. “I do deserve someone who thinks the sun rises and sets on me and is willing to do whatever it takes. I’m not going to accept anything less.”

“But Arya,” The words tumbled out before he could stop them but that didn’t mean they weren’t true. “I do feel that way about you.” He’d never made an admission like that to any other woman before in his life and it was terrifying. “It’s true I would have run away before but I don’t feel that way now.”

Arya allowed Sandor to hold her for a long time while she thought over what he said. She had to examine her own mistakes too. “I was wrong not to tell you, Sandor. It really wasn’t fair to you.”

“Maybe I’m being unfair to you as well. Maybe you would have told me if we’d actually been about to have sex. You can’t know for sure what you would have done.”

“Maybe if I had told you earlier that I was a maiden you wouldn’t have run away. You can’t know for certain what you would have done either.”

Sandor breathed in her scent and was comforted by her warmth. He finally started to think about Arya’s needs instead of his own. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

“Like what?” She was pressed against his chest and her voice seemed faint and muffled.

“I don’t know; a drink of water or a warm compress or something?”

“No, I don’t need anything.”

“Arya, you don’t have to be so damn tough all the time, you know.”

“Yes, I do.”

He eyed her serious face. “Arya, I want to take care of you.”

Arya remembered what Thoros had said at the edge of the Blackwater Rush. He’d said certain black dogs were always meant to care for little wolves. Could he have really known what he was talking about? Arya nodded and Sandor tucked her under his covers and left to make her a cup of tea. When he came back he got under the covers with her and held her tight and stroked her soft hair.

His lips formed a little smile. “I want you to know you fooled me pretty good. You really seemed like you knew what you were doing. You looked as if you meant business when you got me onto the bed and stripped down naked.”

“I did mean business. I had every intention of climbing on top of you and riding you as if you were a bucking bronc at a rodeo but when I realized just how big you are I lost my nerve.”

Sandor laughed. “Really? Arya Stark lost her nerve? I find that hard to believe.”

“Don’t you tell anyone! I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t lose their nerve. How would someone know how to go about taking on something like that, I mean, my Gods, Sandor!”

“Are you trying to politely tell me I’m abnormal again?”

“Well, I think the right words might be surprisingly well-proportioned.”

He sighed. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

“Okay, how’s this; you’re my surprisingly well-proportioned, gloriously tall hero.”

“Really? You’re my, let’s see . . . pleasingly feisty, fiercely brave wolf?”

“Seven Hells, Sandor. You really can be quite charming.”

Sandor kissed Arya and squeezed her tightly. “We’re going to have to remedy the situation, Girl. Your first time should have been special. There should have been candles and music and . . . and rose petals or something.”

“Rose petals?” Arya gave a small laugh that tickled his chest. “Are you serious? Sandor, you don’t watch chick-flicks, do you?”

“What? No! Of course not. Shut up.”

“I’m not so sure about the rose petals, Sandor.”

He kissed her forehead. “Yes, rose petals. If I had my way, all young women would have rose petals.” He whispered into her hair. For some ridiculous reason, Arya started to tear up but she made sure Sandor didn’t see. He continued to hold her in his big, strong arms until he eventually fell asleep.

Arya got out of bed after awhile and got dressed. It wasn’t all that late and she wanted to make it home before Sansa. If Sansa saw her all dressed up, she would ask too many questions. It would be better if she was safely in her comfortable pajamas before her sister arrived. She went into Sandor’s bathroom to brush her hair and fix her makeup. She stared at herself in the mirror and then she made a face as she shook her head. She must be the only woman dumb enough to lose her maidenhead without actually getting any cock.


	16. All's Well That Ends Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Arya awoke the next morning in the pink and white splendor of her ornately carved canopy bed. She turned on her back to stare at the billowing, sheer voile fabric draped above her head. It reminded her of clouds during the daytime and at night the little white twinkly lights strung randomly across the canopy made her feel as if she were looking at the stars in the night sky.

She glanced at her phone on the bedside table with its slender cabriole legs. The dressing table and armoire were equally as dainty and there was even a small crystal chandelier. She supposed Sansa wanted her visitors to feel as though they were royally pampered. Arya laughed when she imagined one of her brothers as an overnight guest tucked in amongst the lacy floral throw pillows and frills.

After a moment or two she became conscious of the tantalizing scent of baked goods. Was it cinnamon rolls? Arya leapt out of bed. Living with Sansa did have some benefits. She had made some wonderful, light, buttery croissants once before and she was really hoping she’d done so again. She bolted for the door but after a couple of steps she winced and decided to slow down. Sandor was probably feeling just fine this morning. It really wasn’t fair.

Arya walked into the kitchen and found Sansa removing a baking sheet of lovely, airy, crescent-shaped rolls from the oven. Not only was she in full make-up but her red hair was imprisoned in a sleek, elegant bun at the nape of her neck. Little tendrils had escaped and had curled softly around her face. She was wearing heels and a conservative, dark blue dress which was partially covered with a crisp white apron. She looked as if she had just stepped out of a print ad from the 1950’s. The only thing missing was a set of pearls. Willas Tyrell was standing at the counter pouring a cup of coffee. Arya’s eyes flew open wide in shock. Was it possible he had spent the night?

Arya had made it home before Sansa and had promptly fallen asleep. At second glance, she realized Willas was wearing a dark suit which was probably not what he had worn yesterday while sailing or at clambake on the beach. She was slightly disappointed for Sansa and also for herself. She could have teased Sansa endlessly over having a little sleepover with _darling_ Willas if it had been true.

Sansa smiled. “Good morning, Arya. I hope you don’t mind but since Willas invited me to attend church with him this morning, I thought I would reciprocate with a little something special. Why don’t you run along and make yourself presentable and then we’ll eat.”

Arya wasn’t about to run anywhere this morning but she didn’t waste much time making herself presentable either. She threw on some shorts and a t-shirt and combed her unruly hair and figured she was presentable enough. She wondered if Sansa was trying to impress Willas with her culinary skills. She had heard the expression that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. She had no idea if it was actually true. She had overheard her brothers talking once and Theon had said that the way to his heart was a little further south than his stomach. Of course, Theon said a lot of things and it was hard to tell sometimes if he was joking or not.

Sansa had properly set the table with her china and real cloth napkins. There was no doubt she was trying to impress Willas. Sansa must really like him if she was willing to get up early enough to make croissants. She vaguely recalled they were a lot of trouble to make. Arya took her seat and realized Sansa and Willas must have both been blessed with endless self-control since they’d waited for her to join them before they gave into temptation.

Sansa offered Arya one of the tasty treats. “How was your date last night, Arya?”

“It was fine. We went out to dinner and then we had an argument.” She said as she selected one of the pastries. 

Sansa laughed. “That sounds about right.”

Arya decided she had better distract her sister before she asked any more questions. “Did you have a nice time sailing?” She asked as she began to slather some cold, salty butter onto her croissant.

“Oh, yes. It was a beautiful day for it. Renly really is an accomplished sailor.”

“It was Renly’s boat?”

“Yes. It was an older boat but the interior was fitted with lovely wooden trim. I think he said it was teak.”

“It was manufactured in 1964. It’s a 40 foot sloop. You can’t beat the older models for craftsmanship.” Willas added as he dunked his croissant into his coffee.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Sansa hopped up and skipped into the kitchen and returned with an envelope. “This is for you.”

Arya took it from her hand. “What is it?”

“It’s an invitation to afternoon tea at the Red Keep.”

Arya made a face. The invitation was from the Right Honourable Cersei Lannister, Prime Minister. It might as well have said Queen Cersei. She really did think that highly of herself.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already accepted for you. Oh, and Tommen said he would call you this morning as well. We’re going to watch him play polo at the Guards Club after lunch and then we’ll all go to tea together afterwards.”

Arya opened her mouth to protest but she did like horses and she did need to find a way to get closer to Cersei. Besides, what could go wrong at tea?

. . . . .

Arya had to admit she’d had a good time at the polo match. Tommen must have spent considerable time in the saddle to have become such a good horseman. He was also a quick and determined player just as he had been while playing games with her at the lodge. Women and girls swarmed him when the game was over despite how Boris Blount tried to shoo them away.

It had been Willas’ idea to invite Sansa and Arya to the polo match with Tommen’s enthusiastic agreement. Willas had been a member of the opposing team before his knee injury and had come to support his former teammates. Arya wondered why Tommen wanted her there when he already had so many female fans.

When Arya had first started working at the Tower of the Hand, it had brought back the horrible memory of her father’s death and a kind of sickening fear that whoever had pushed him or at least witnessed his fall was still on the loose and might be still lurking around in the shadows. Of course, the feelings had dissipated for the most part but the minute she entered the Red Keep all the same ugly feelings rushed back again. When Tommen went upstairs to shower and change, Arya slipped silently away while Willas and Sansa were in deep conversation with Renly and Loras who had also been invited to tea.

Arya wandered around the grounds and sat on a bench outside the maze when a fuzzy cat decided to join her. Arya was pretty sure it was Tommen’s cat, Ser Pounce. Although Ser Pounce loved Tommen, he was not all that fond of anyone else so Arya didn’t try to pet him. After awhile she noticed the giant oak tree inside the long abandoned Godswood had lost one of its largest branches. Arya got up to investigate further. Ser Pounce apparently had nothing better to do and followed along after her.

She passed by the White Sword Tower where the Special Protection Guard was housed and then made her way to the Godswood. It was still as overgrown as ever. It was enclosed with a tall iron fence and a locked gate. She wondered why they hadn’t turned the space into a garden at least. She knew the Godswood at Highgarden and at Riverrun had been made over into gardens. She supposed it was actually a miracle it hadn’t been cut down and turned into extra parking spaces.

She remembered how she and Tommen used to squeeze in through the gap beside the gate and found that she could still fit through it. The Godswood was filled with elm, alder, black cottonwood and lots of underbrush. She made her way to the giant oak. There had never been a weirwood here. Only the great oak had served as the heart tree. The oak was in bad shape. It was covered with smokeberry vines and had deteriorated a quite a bit since her last visit years ago. She admired the red dragon’s breath flowers that still grew at its base. She offered a quick prayer as she realized it was nearly time for tea.

As Arya hurried past the White Sword Tower, Ser Pounce let out a hiss. Meryn Trant had just exited the building and was looking right at her. Of course, no one else was around and he’d caught her unprepared in a skirt and heels once again. He began to move towards her rather quickly. Arya ran back to the Godswood and slipped back through the gap without a moment to spare. Trant stood glaring at her from outside the fence. Arya had known he would be too bulky to squeeze through. She raised her chin defiantly as she stared at him through the iron bars.

“You have to come out sooner or later.” Trant said rather unpleasantly as he crossed his arms.

“I’m a guest, you idiot.”

“That’s what you keep saying but how am I supposed to know if it’s true or not? As far as anyone knows, I would just be doing my duty if I was to apprehend you.”

“Are you a psychopath or something?”

The question appeared to anger him. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? As far as I can tell, you’re not very smart at all.”

“If you don’t leave me alone I’m going to call Tommen.”

Trant snorted. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“How about if I call Lord Tywin? You’ve been away for awhile. Don’t you know I work for him now?”

“Yeah, right. Go ahead and call him. I dare you.” A nasty grin spread across his nasty face. “Better yet, why don’t you call Clegane? I understand he’s become rather good at coming to your rescue lately. I suppose you must have batted your eyelashes at him or something. He rather rudely asked me to keep away from you.” Trant unconsciously rubbed the side of his jaw.

Shit! She couldn’t believe Sandor had been so stupid. “I don’t know what you’re blabbering on about. I’m sure you give Clegane enough reasons to dislike you without any help from me. Now go away or else.”

Suddenly, Arya caught sight of Tommen and his cat over Trant’s shoulder. “What’s going on?” Tommen yelled out to Trant as he sprinted forward.

Trant spun around. “Good afternoon, Master Tommen. I was just asking Ms. Stark if she needed any help climbing back through the fence. I mean, she’s not exactly dressed for whatever it is she thinks she’s doing.”

Tommen frowned. “Arya, are you alright?”

Ser Pounce slipped through the fence and rubbed against Arya’s leg. Arya had always loved wolves and dogs but maybe she needed to re-evaluate her stance on cats. Arya sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Trant turned back towards her and scowled before he stalked away.

. . . . .

As Arya and Tommen followed Sansa and Willas towards the French doors of the solarium, Sansa turned and around and hissed at Arya under her breath. “Mind your manners and for goodness sake, don’t spill anything.”

Arya blushed. “Yes, Mother.”

Sansa and Arya were dutifully introduced to Lady Olenna Tyrell by their host and then everyone took their seats at a large round table covered with a snowy white lace tablecloth and a very elegant red and gold china tea service. The solarium was furnished in white wicker and had sweeping views of the lawn and Blackwater Bay. There were a couple of lush ferns in hanging baskets and some tropical palms in painted porcelain fishbowl planters that were possibly from Yi Ti in eastern Essos.

Arya observed Cersei as she began to pour the tea. She had a much shorter, sleeker haircut and a few more lines around her mouth but she was essentially the same as she remembered her. Even though no one could fault her table manners, she still couldn’t hide the disdainful sneer that marred her otherwise pretty face.

Willas had been granted the honor of assisting Cersei with her duties and Arya’s musings were interrupted when he enquired if she would prefer strong or weak tea and if she would like lemon and sugar with her Earl Grey. She was mindful not to clang her teaspoon against the sides of her cup while she dissolved the sugar cube. She didn’t want Sansa to kill her.

The Lannister’s might not be the most warm-hearted people but they knew better than to skimp on the tea. The tea stands were loaded. There was a nice selection of finger sandwiches; cucumber, egg salad, ham, and Arya’s favorite, smoked salmon. Arya hadn’t been invited to tea with the adults when she’d visited the Red Keep before because she’d been too young. She remembered Sansa had been invited a few times but mostly they just had tea in their room.

Arya still hadn’t told Sansa she was working in Lord Tywin’s library but she was sure he wouldn’t be speaking to her anyway. There were too many other important guests at the table for him to take the time to notice her.

Lady Olenna adjusted her scarf. “Lord Tywin, are you aware my granddaughter has finally finished her schooling and has taken a position with Tyrell Holdings recently?”

“Yes, Lady Olenna. I understand she has chosen to become an asset to her family and will work in a financial capacity. She is an extremely intelligent girl. I shouldn’t think it will take long before she takes over as chief financial officer.”

Olenna waved her hand. “Save your flattery. Tell me, is your beloved grandson gainfully employed?”

Lord Tywin gave Lady Olenna a withering look. “You know full well he is Vice Chairman of the Board.”

“Hmm, you could have fooled me. He seems to be spending an inordinate amount of time stalking around the grounds at Highgarden, playing with his newest toy; a rather wicked crossbow. He seems rather keen to shoot anything that moves. I just wondered if he might have some duties at Baratheon Corp that need his attention.”

Tywin turned to Cersei. “Have you heard from Joffrey? When is he scheduled to return from his visit at Highgarden with the lovely Margaery?”

“I’m sure he’ll be back before very long, Father.”

Tywin made a face. “That was not an answer, my dear.”

“I’m sure he will be back before the annual board meeting. I spoke to him yesterday. He is well aware of his duty to the family.” Jaime interjected.

Tywin rubbed his chin. “How’s that new big, blonde-haired woman working out? What’s her name again?”

Jaime choked on his tea. “Her name is Brienne Tarth. Don’t worry, Father, the Oathkeeper project is in very capable hands.

Arya turned her head to look at Cersei who had just snorted in a very unladylike fashion.

Jaime dabbed at his tie with his tea napkin. “How was the polo match this afternoon, Tommen?”

Tommen smiled. “We won of course! I scored two goals. I really wish you could have joined us, Uncle Jaime.”

Loras sat up straighter. “You wouldn’t have won so easily if Willas had been playing against you. Too bad he’s lame now and can’t really bend his knee.”

“Loras!” Lady Olenna said rather sternly. “Your brother is _not_ lame. He is having a temporary setback that shall be corrected once we have found a competent orthopedic surgeon. Apparently, a good one is as rare as a politician that lives up to their campaign promises.”

Her remark was followed by a short silence as several people looked at her askance. Arya was pretty impressed with Olenna’s dauntlessness. After all, she was having tea with more than a couple of politicians including the prime minister and two small council members. Arya looked down at her plate to hide her smile as she broke her buttermilk scone in half and applied some raspberry jam.

Lord Tywin laughed out loud.

Cersei turned red. “Lady Olenna, I have tried to tell you . . .”

Willas jumped in at the same time with an attempt at damage control. “I’m sure my grandmother wasn’t specifically referring to anyone at the table. It’s just an expression. We’re confident changes to the currently unfavorable export restrictions on agricultural products from the Reach will soon be remedied. Isn’t that right, Grandmother?”

Lady Olenna rolled her eyes and spooned some clotted cream onto her plate for her scone.

“I say, Jaime, I didn’t know Ms. Tarth was working for Lannister Industries now.” Renly dabbed some marmalade from his lips with his napkin. “She used to work for me, you know. She was the most dedicated employee I ever had, not to mention a great dance partner.”

Jaime leaned forward. “Really? She certainly has the legs for it.” His eyes shifted to Cersei and then back to Renly. “What I meant to say is she’s not really an employee, she’s more like a sub-contractor.”

Cersei ripped her scone into tiny pieces and then her unfriendly green eyes focused on Arya. “Tommen, I was surprised when you asked me to invite the Stark girl to tea.” She nodded her head towards Arya. “However did you manage to come across her after all these years? I imagined she must have been off dueling her way across parts unknown or causing an international incident somewhere.”

Arya stared across the table at Cersei and narrowed her eyes. Cersei ignored her and reached for the lemon curd.

“I’m sure I told you, Mother. Myrcella invited Arya and Sansa to Riverspring Lodge. We had a very nice holiday in the mountains together.”

“Do you still duel, Ms. Stark? If I remember correctly, you were quite enthusiastic about the sport.” Arya turned towards Jaime who was smiling at her.

Arya shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes.”

Renly laughed and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “I think that means yes.”

Arya gave him a sideways look but chose to ignore him. She turned towards Tommen. “Where is Myrcella by the way?”

“Oh, she’s still in Dorne with Trystane. She should be home in the next few days.” Tommen answered.

Cersei pointed her fork at Arya. “Oh, now I remember. You tried to drown in the Blackwater. Maybe you should spend a little more time learning to swim and a little less time fighting.”

Lady Olenna had moved on to the final course and selected a tart from the top tier of the tea stand and then looked across at Sansa. “Willas, is this the red-haired northern girl you’ve been telling me about?”

Willas appeared to be a little apprehensive. “Why yes, Grandmother.”

“You are the oldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, is that correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Hmm. Well, I can certainly see why Willas is attracted to you. If you don’t mind my asking, what do you do? Don’t tell me you’re a fashion model or something vulgar like that.”

Sansa swallowed. “I’m starting law school this fall.”

“Corporate law, like Willas?”

Sansa nervously snapped her biscuit in half. “No, government law.”

Lady Olenna sniffed with disapproval. “Do you mean to tell me you are interested in the mundane workings of the government?”

“I’m actually more interested in politics than anything else.” Sansa lifted her chin defiantly.

Lady Olenna’s lips actually turned up into a sly smile. “Ah, excellent. Tell me, would you ever consider standing for parliament someday?”

Sansa nodded.

“Hmm. How do you feel about children?”

“Grandmother!” Willas exclaimed. “That’s enough!”

Sansa turned bright red. “Well of course I plan on having a family one day.”

“That’s a tough balance my dear but it can be done.” Olenna motioned to Cersei. “If she can do it, anyone can.”

Willas wrung his hands. “I apologize, Sansa. Please don’t mind my grandmother. She means well.”

“Nonsense!” Lady Olenna declared. “It’s not just men who should be frank.” Arya thought she saw the old woman’s eyes sparkle. “Besides, one of the advantages of living to an advanced age is having the pleasure of finally being able to say whatever one wishes.”

Lord Tywin startled Arya when he spoke to her. “What are you smiling about, my dear Ms. Stark?”

Arya hadn’t realized she’d been smiling. She immediately assumed what she hoped was a demure expression.

He continued. “Have you read any good books lately?”

Now it was Arya’s turn to turn red. Obviously, he thought he was being funny. She took a breath. “Just a little something called _The Lion When He Roars_. It’s about . . .”

“I know what it’s about. It’s an excellent read. I highly recommend it.”

. . . . .

Arya arrived at Sandor’s door later that evening. “I’m sorry, I know I’m late but I fell asleep.”

“You look exhausted. What have you been up to now?”

Arya shook her head. “You don’t even want to know.” She stepped forward and put her arms around Sandor’s waist and laid her head against his chest.

Sandor put his arms around her for a moment and then he picked her up in his arms and slammed the door closed with his elbow and carried her over to the sofa. He placed her down carefully and then bent down on one knee so he could look into her face.

“Sandor I . . .”

“Shh.” He leaned forward and kissed her and then he pulled back so he could look into her eyes. He couldn’t resist stroking her soft cheek with his fingertips. He closed his eyes. He was so stupid. When she was late he had been afraid she had changed her mind and wasn’t going to come. When he opened his eyes again, Arya had a puzzled expression on her face. He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss and then stood up. “I need to check on dinner.”

Arya sat up. She wasn’t quite sure but she thought something was not quite right. She got up and followed Sandor into the kitchen. He was standing with his back to her at the stove. She sat down at the table. “I didn’t know you were going to cook, Sandor.”

Arya had changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Sandor was wearing some black dress slacks and a pale blue shirt. Then she noticed the china on the table and the cloth napkins. There was even a small bouquet of white and pink daisies in a cut glass vase. She thought about what had happened earlier that morning and realized Sansa hadn’t been trying to show off for Willas so he would think she was special. She had been trying to show Willas how special he was to her.

Sandor covered the pan and then sat down at the table across from Arya. She looked very serious. “What’s wrong, Girl?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I should have called. I won’t let it happen again.”

Sandor frowned but before she could say anything else his phone buzzed on the countertop. He stood and picked it up. “Damn. It’s work. This should only take a minute.”

As Sandor began to talk, Arya got up and looked into the pan on the stove. There was chicken, rice, bell peppers, corn, black beans and diced tomatoes simmering together in a bubbling sauce. She decided she really needed to learn how to cook. She wanted to make something nice for Sandor too. She wondered if the way to his heart was through his stomach or somewhere further south.

When she touched Sandor’s elbow he gave her a nod but he didn’t pull away. He was leaning back against the counter and she couldn’t help admiring his long legs. She brushed her hand against his thigh and he jumped. He stared at her in surprise and she fluttered her eyelashes innocently. He smiled uncertainly and then continued his conversation. He was arguing a little and she heard Sandor use the name Selmy. Arya realized he was speaking with his boss. She positioned herself in front of Sandor and touched both his thighs at the same time.

He stopped talking in mid-sentence and quickly drew in a startled breath. He stared at her like she was crazy but she noticed he did nothing to try to escape her either. That was all the permission she needed.

Arya pressed forward and nuzzled Sandor’s chest as her hands massaged up and down his muscular thighs. Sandor swallowed. She noticed he was talking a lot less. She used her thumbs to rub little circles closer and closer to his manhood. When she finally touched it he gasped. It only took a moment to fondle him to attention. Sandor groaned and surrendered.

Arya didn’t even think he said goodbye before he dropped the phone on the countertop. She quickly unfastend his belt and reached down inside his boxers and took him in hand. Sandor threw his head back and his breath came in hard gasps. She stoked his thick cock up and down it’s long length and then twisted her wrist over the head.

“Arya!” He moaned. She glanced up at him and his nostrils were flaring. She decided he’d had enough and finished him off hard and fast. Sandor wailed and then called out as she brought him to a very satisfying completion. She hoped Sandor understood just how much he meant to her. Who knew that doing something for someone else could make you feel so good yourself?


	17. Earth to Arya, Come in Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the Lovely Flower

Arya couldn’t believe it when Sandor actually began to lecture her after her little show of affection. He hadn’t objected the first time she’d . . . _handled_ him on his sofa. She noticed he hadn’t protested while she was doing it this time either. He only decided to complain after the fact. Maybe she really wasn’t all that good at it although Gendry had never complained. She decided it was probably best not to mention Gendry.

Well, maybe she shouldn’t have done it while he was on the phone but she wasn’t the one making all the noise. He certainly had a lot of ideas about what was appropriate and what wasn’t appropriate. Arya stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. The bathroom was the only place she could think of to hide after Sandor reprimanded her. Her cheeks were flushed pink. Well, if he didn’t enjoy her attention she wasn’t about to force herself on him. If he wanted her to wait for an _appropriate_ moment before touching him, she’d show him just how long she could wait. She could wait until the Seven Hells froze over.

Arya tossed her hair over her shoulder and rejoined Sandor in the kitchen. She sat down at the table and took a sip of the wine he’d poured for her. There was a little plate of hard white cheese and a glass bowl of olives as well as a lettuce and tomato salad. He began to spoon up the chicken, rice and peppers from the skillet and onto a serving platter while simultaneously attempting to brush some olive oil on some round flatbread and fry it up in the pan until it bubbled. Arya jumped up from her seat and took the platter so Sandor could concentrate on flipping the flatbread. When he sat down and smiled at her over the festive Dornish meal, Arya smiled back at him before she remembered she was angry.

The food was delicious. It was spicy but not too spicy which was just the way she liked it. She was still hurt and embarrassed and was finding it difficult to look him in the face.

“What’s wrong? I thought you told me you liked Dornish food.”

“I do. It’s very good.” She took a sip of her wine.

Sandor paused between bites and watched Arya pick at her food. “Are you going to tell me what happened today? You seemed a little upset when you arrived.”

Arya shrugged. “Nothing happened, really. Sansa and I had afternoon tea at the Red Keep.”

“What!” Sandor slammed his wineglass down hard enough that a small amount of the sour red wine sloshed out over the top.

Arya lifted her chin. “It was no big deal. Sansa was invited at the request of Willas Tyrell. She and Tommen decided I should join them.”

Sandor took a deep breath and tried to speak more calmly. “That was it? Just tea?”

Arya knew better than to mention Meryn Trant. “We went to Tommen’s polo match before tea but that was all there was to it. We left right afterwards.”

“I don’t like any of this, Girl. I don’t want you at the Red Keep. I do kind of vaguely recall you claimed someone else had been in the Tower with your father but nothing really ever came of it.”

“That’s because no one believed me! No one came out the front door because it was immediately secured and there was a camera on the back exit and no one came out of it either. They tried to tell me I was upset and had imagined I heard someone but I didn’t imagine anything. The only two explanations I can come up with are that either the camera was tampered with or whoever it was must have hid and slipped out later.”

Sandor dropped his head and rubbed his temples.

“You believe me, don’t you?”

When he finally looked up, he didn’t look happy but he nodded.

Arya let out a sigh of relief. Not one single person had believed her, not even her own family.

. . . . .

The next three days at work were as tedious as usual. She tried her best to do her job and please her boss, Maester Quinton, but he still got after her when she was late returning to work after lunch. She had decided to tell Tommen she had been hired as an assistant in his grandfather’s library. She was afraid it would seem odd if he found out she was working there and hadn’t mentioned it. He’d insisted on taking her out to lunch all three days. Varys had joined them the first time but then declared he wasn’t going to stand in the way of young love and had left her and Tommen alone after that.

Of course, she liked Tommen but Varys had spies everywhere and knew all about the intrigues going on at the Red Keep. She had found Varys liked to be flattered and was hoping he'd spill some juicy secrets but Tommen had spoiled her plans. Besides, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Tommen was interested in her. She was going to have to come up with an excuse to spend less time with him without hurting his feelings.

Lord Tywin hadn’t spent any time in his library either. She did see him a couple of times out walking around the grounds with Lady Olenna. They would stop every few feet and throw their hands up in the air at one another or shake their heads or look heavenward in what she imagined was exasperation. In short, they looked to be having a lovely time fighting with one another.

Arya had spoken to Sandor on the phone a couple of times but she hadn’t seen him around. He was currently assigned to Cersei. It was probably better that Boris Blount had been the one to stand by and watch as Tommen gave her a kiss on the cheek anyway. At the end of the day, Preston Greenfield escorted her out to her leased grey Land Rover Discovery Sport. She hoped to buy a vehicle of her own soon. Although Sansa’s red Ferrari was nice, she couldn’t see herself driving something like that all the way up the Kingsroad to Winterfell.

Arya’s feet hurt from standing on the narrow rungs of the rolling library ladder while searching for some historical lineage book for Maester Quinton. She’d looked nearly all day and still hadn’t been able to find the ancient old tome. All she wanted was to go home and soak in the bathtub. She heard a shout and looked over and saw that Tommen was trying to get her attention as he came towards her.

“I’m glad I caught you, Arya. Myrcella’s home and I thought you might like to say hello.”

“Uh, sure.” Arya sighed and followed Tommen into the Red Keep.

They walked across the polished stone floor of the Great Hall and on towards the family quarters while Tommen told her about some of the unusual customs in Dorne. As they got nearer, Arya realized Sandor was standing next to a set of closed double doors. When it became apparent that Tommen intended to enter, Sandor stepped in front of the doors and blocked his access.

Tommen opened his mouth but Sandor shook his head. “You need to come back later, Master Tommen.”

“What? Why?”

“Your mother asked for some . . . some privacy.”

Just then Arya became aware of the sound of a woman crying. Her eyes shot over to Sandor’s and he shook his head. She turned to look at Tommen and he was looking at her with alarm.

“You really need to leave now.” Sandor put his arms out and started walking forward causing both Tommen and Arya to back up. 

“Oh Mother! I’m sorry!” The three of them paused as a woman wailed.

“Is that Myrcella?” Tommen asked with surprise.

“Please leave, Tommen. You need to let your mother handle this.” Sandor’s tone of voice intimidated Arya. It must have intimidated Tommen too because they both turned to leave without any further argument.

“How could a daughter of mine be so stupid!” They all clearly heard Cersei shout. “Don’t you know anything? This is the most irresponsible, inconsiderate . . . are you sure? Maybe you’re mistaken. Have you seen a Maester? Maybe you’re just late.”

Tommen and Arya stopped and stared at each other and then turned back to look at Sandor and then at the double doors where the sounds of more crying and wailing could be heard.

They had to strain to hear Cersei over Myrcella’s emotional outburst. Cersei seemed to have calmed down. “It’s going to be alright, Myrcella. There’s no sense getting all upset for nothing. Let’s find out for certain.” The crying subsided as Cersei continued. “What does Trystane have to say about this . . . this situation, why didn’t he come back with you?”

Myrcella’s voice was very faint. “I didn’t tell him.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure everything out.”

Arya’s eyes got big as she sought Sandor’s. He shook his head again. She turned to Tommen. She could tell he’d understood as well. He walked her back to her vehicle.

Tommen looked extremely upset. “Arya, please don’t tell anyone what you heard.”

Arya took Tommen’s hand. “Don’t worry, Tommen. I won’t. I promise.”

. . . . .

Sandor texted her about an hour later and asked her if she’d like to come over later and share a pizza with him. They hadn’t planned on seeing each other until Friday night but she wanted to talk.

Sansa caught her before she went out the door. “I thought you said you were going to soak in the tub with a good book.”

“I decided to go have a pizza with a friend instead. If you don’t want to be late for your date with Willas, you better get a move on.”

Sansa stood in front of the door and put her hands on her hips. “I have time. Is this the same friend from work that you went out with before?”

“Why, yes it is. Now would you please excuse me? Septa Mordane always said that tardiness is a sin and we all must do our utmost to mind our manners at all times."

Sansa snorted. “When did you ever care about manners?”

“Hey, I behaved myself at the tea party, didn’t I? Give me some credit.”

“When are you planning to invite your gentleman friend over to meet your family?”

Arya stared at her. “Are you kidding? I think it’s a little early for that.”

“Oh, so he’s just a casual friend?”

Arya hesitated for just a second too long.

Sansa pounced. “Aha!” She looked very smug. “So he’d more than a casual friend.”

“Oh my Gods, Sansa, I will bring him around when I’m good and ready and not a moment sooner.” Arya cocked her head to the side. “Is that your phone?”

Sansa took a step towards her bedroom and Arya zipped around her and fled out the door and ran past the elevator and towards the stairwell.

She glanced over her shoulder when she heard the sound of the door opening far behind her. Sansa stuck her head out. “Very funny, Arya!” She yelled. “You aren’t nearly as smart as you think you are!”

Where had she heard that before?

. . . . .

Sandor offered Arya a bottle of beer to go with the pepperoni pizza but she refused and opted for water instead. She remembered the last time she’d had some beer it had given her a headache the next morning. She recalled the way Sandor had comforted her and made her feel better. She was tired and wanted to lay her head in his lap again but was afraid Sandor would think it was _inappropriate_.

“Arya . . .”

“It was the lovebind.”

“What?”

“You know. The lovebind from the old sept. Willas tried to warn us.”

“Arya! You can’t be serious.”

“You know it’s true, Sandor. Not only did she pick one of the blossoms; she wore it in her hair.”

Sandor started to laugh. “Arya! That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Willas never said the lovebind made a woman more fertile. He just said that the blossoms are a sign to be more careful.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m laughing because none of this is the least bit funny.”

Arya frowned. “You can laugh all you want but Myrcella wore the lovebind in her hair and look what’s happened. I don’t think it’s funny either.”

Sandor searched her face. “You know it’s a private matter between Myrcella and her family.”

“I know that. I’m not an idiot.” She could see the way Sandor’s brows were furrowed and she knew he was upset. “You’ve looked after Myrcella for a long time.”

“I’ve known her since she was a little girl. She would play dress-up and clomp around in her mother’s heels.”

Arya smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“Then she would shout out orders as she sipped grape juice from her toy wineglass.” Sandor smiled back at Arya and then they both laughed together.

Sandor got up and put the remainder of the pizza into the fridge and then he sat down next to Arya and took her hand in his and stared at their entwined fingers. “I don’t ever want to do anything to hurt you, Girl. I don’t think I asked if you are on birth control.”

“Yes I am and I’m glad to know you don’t want to hurt me. I don’t want you to hurt me, either.”

“It’s just that you’re awfully young. You’re even younger that Myrcella.”

“Sandor, Myrcella is not a child any longer and neither am I. As far as I can tell, everyone makes mistakes. I already told you that I have the right to make my own decisions and if some of them turn out to be mistakes then it’s my place to face up to them. Besides, if I never made any mistakes, how would I ever learn anything?”

Sandor looked down into Arya’s earnest face. He’d heard what she said but he also knew damn well it took years and years to gain wisdom. Some people never did achieve it. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew what he was doing half the time himself.

Despite all the conflicting thoughts in his head, Sandor wasn’t about to let Arya go. He wasn’t a fucking saint. She was a woman that wanted to be held and he wanted to hold her. He didn’t want to think about how much he wanted to be held. It made him feel too vulnerable. He stood up and offered her his hand and led her into his bedroom.

They both took off their shoes and crawled under the covers and he put his arms around the wolf girl and held her tight. Her face was pressed up against his chest and she was holding him just as tightly. Sandor gently stroked Arya’s back and she responded with a soft sigh. He smoothed her hair before brushing it aside and gently massaging the nape of her neck. Arya sighed again. Oh Gods, how he loved the sounds she made. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. If he was honest with himself, he knew he wanted to do much more than just hold her.

Arya’s grip on Sandor loosened. She was feeling so warm and relaxed. She barely noticed when Sandor removed her arm from around him and gently positioned her onto her stomach. He continued to caress her very, very slowly, paying careful attention to the places that made her shiver and moan.

Arya felt as if she had melted into a puddle. When Sandor attempted to pull her shirt over her head it was as if she could barely lift her arms. They seemed very heavy and all she wanted was to lay back down and be cosseted and adored. It was almost as if Sandor had put a spell on her. He had been right. Doing something quickly and efficiently wasn’t always better. Sometimes, going slowly was infinitely more pleasing.

The door was partially open and some ambient light shone on Arya’s silky skin. Sandor admired the smooth musculature of back. He knew he should stop but instead he pushed the comforter back to expose her bare legs. As he swept his hand up the back of her creamy thigh, she hummed and opened her legs wider. It was too much. It was too much for him to resist.

Sandor leaned down over her and nuzzled Arya’s skin with his rough stubble and then teased her with feathery light kissed while continuing to lightly skim his hand over the backs of her thighs. When she whimpered it nearly sent him over the edge. He had to fight the urge to get her up on her knees where he could mount her like the dog he was and give it to her as hard and as fast as he could. He withdrew his hand from her leg. He knew she wasn’t ready for that. He was determined to treat her right. She was too precious to do otherwise.

Arya sensed Sandor’s hesitation. She turned back towards him noticed how the dim light and shadows played over his scars. It wasn’t right that Sandor had been hurt so badly. She wanted to kill his brother. She wanted to slash him to death. She wanted to kill him as much as she wanted to kill the person responsible for her father’s death.

Sandor could feel the fierceness radiating from Arya but couldn’t understand what had caused it so suddenly. “Arya?”

“Kiss me, Sandor.”

Sandor kissed her. He kissed her mouth and her throat and her breasts and quickly worked his way down to her belly and then beyond. He swiftly removed her shorts and her panties and lifted her legs onto his shoulders. At the last second he remembered his resolve to treat her as well as he could and so he slowed his mouth and his tongue and his hands and he did right by his fiercely brave wolf; at least according to Arya who told him so after she came back down to earth. He supposed her opinion was the one that mattered the most, anyway.


End file.
